


Transparency

by chaoticgoodlawyer



Series: Transparency 'Verse [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Explicit Consent, Healthy Relationships, Human Names Used, I had changed a lot by the time I posted chapter 20 so yeah, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, Kink Negotiation, Lots of side pairings, M/M, Past Domestic Violence, Past Sexual Abuse, Past Torture, but not between Matthew and Gilbert, but only mentioned, but the last is not explicit, description of past abuse, incorporation of history, obviously, written over almost four years so the style gradually matures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-02
Updated: 2017-02-09
Packaged: 2018-09-21 15:57:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 35
Words: 180,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9556100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaoticgoodlawyer/pseuds/chaoticgoodlawyer
Summary: After receiving a harsh emotional blow, Gilbert is wondering if he really belongs anywhere. Looking for somewhere to disappear for a while, he finds himself in Canada. Matthew is not used to people seeking him out, but when Gilbert arrives, he finds a friend to cure his loneliness and, just maybe, much more…Originally posted on ff.net under pen name of darkhuntress13.





	1. Prologue: Catalyst

Roderich Edelstein was at his wits end. For the past month, he had put up with constant chatter, nonstop gruffs, and incessant cackling. He had cleaned spaces in his house he had no idea could get dirty. He went from an aristocrat to a maid/cook/parent for an unwelcome house guest. But he could handle all that. Roderich was a nation, much stronger than a mere human. He could put up with annoying, obnoxious presences. No, it wasn't Gilbert Beilschmidt's upkeep that was making him go insane.

It was that look.

The look the personification of the now dissolved Kingdom of Prussia kept sending him when he thought Roderich wasn't looking made the Austrian nation's eye twitch. It took two weeks to understand why he felt strange when Gilbert suddenly went silent; it sure wasn't because he enjoyed the man's narcissistic tone. Then, when facing the antique silver mirror above his fireplace, he looked up when his hair rose in the wake of Gilbert's silence and saw something that deeply disturbed him. Prussia's visage was one of intense longing, showing an unfulfilled need that had been denied for too long.

And he was looking at Austria.

What was troubling for the nation was not the sexual nature of the gaze; it was the unspoken devotion that made his skin crawl. It was quite clear that Gilbert loved him and had loved him for some time now. Roderich could entertain the idea of having sex with Gilbert. Indeed, he had thought about it more than once (and, truly, you had to be more straight than Roderich to _not_ fantasize about a man that hot), but any passion Roderich felt for Gilbert was cooled the second the Prussian opened his mouth. To entertain the thought of having something more with Gilbert other than disgusted tolerance and occasional lust…the Austrian shivered just thinking about it. To have to deal with the man's ego for a month was trying enough but for the rest of his life…no. Just, no.

But Roderich did have a heart. He's seen a side of Gilbert that was always hidden beneath the proclamations of 'awesomeness' and the loud antics. As a week went by, Roderich began to see the interruptions of his piano playing and the outrageous messes as desire for attention from someone that matters ( _No one could possibly be that unintentionally annoying_ , Roderich thought, forgetting Feliciano). At first, he became more tolerant of Prussia's actions out of pity; Roderich understood unrequited love all too well.

Unfortunately, the Prussian seemed to take the decrease in protestations as encouragement and began to get a bit touchy. It started off as a brush of an arm in the kitchen, then a light touch of fingers when they walked somewhere together. After a week, Prussia was outright hugging him when he entered a room, ignoring the way the Austrian stiffened every time he did so. Roderich did not want to lead Gilbert on. This had to stop, but in a dignified way, Roderich decided.

Of course, he forgot who exactly he was dealing with.

* * *

"Hey, Specs," Gilbert said, striding across the music room to where Roderich was playing Beethoven's 5th. His hands were slightly shaking as he quietly draped himself over the Austrian's shoulders. He was so happy to finally be able to touch the man he loved for centuries, so relieved to have some release to the internal struggle he had fought for so long that Gilbert failed to notice the silence in the room as Roderich ceased to play. This was a sign that something was greatly troubling the Austrian, if he could no longer bring himself to play the German (not Austrian, no matter what Roderich told himself) composer's music. But Gilbert was so focused on what he was going to attempt to do that he was oblivious to the Austrian's mood. As he silently inhaled the scent of Roderich's mahogany hair, he said earnestly, "I need to talk to you."

"What now, Gilbert?" Roderich was on the edge. He had waited too long to tell Gilbert that he didn't return his feelings and was still agitated from cleaning up the aftermath of the Prussian's attempt to cook breakfast. The tension in his body and mind only became higher when he noted the serious tone in Prussia's voice. He was ready to snap.

Gilbert was never good with words. Whenever he tried to express his actual feelings, he ended up spitting out some bullshit about how awesome he was. Don't get it twisted: Gilbert was awesome and he knew it. But he always used his ego as a mask for his intelligence and feelings, living by the idea that the more distance he kept from others, the less likely they would be able to hurt him. Gilbert's attitude certainly helped him create an empire for his brother in the 1800s. Even Francis, one of his best friends, had underestimated him when they went to war. But now he wanted the man sitting stiffly in his arms to understand him better than anyone. So, instead of speaking, he acted.

The kiss was so innocent and sweet that it sent Roderich into shock for a moment. The contrast between Gilbert obnoxiousness not a minute ago and the sentiment behind that kiss, placed so lovingly at the corner of his mouth, was jarring. It also pushed the aristocrat, poised to snap, over the edge.

Later, he would say that he blacked out. Later, he would say that the Prussian had it coming. Later, he would be ashamed and hate himself, just a little. Later, Roderich would be relieved that it was finally over.

Breath left Gilbert in a rush as an elbow hit his solar plexus. Stumbling back, he gasped in some breath, just enough to say, "Oh, come on, Specs. Don't be-"

Gilbert didn't see the fist coming in a fierce right hook until it was too late to avoid it and only had enough time (and practice fighting) to angle his body so that it hit his shoulder instead of his temple. The blow sent shock waves down his arm, betraying the quiet strength of the musician. Shocked at the display of violence, Gilbert backed up, automatically falling into a fighting stance. It took him a second to remember who he was fighting, causing him to drop his guard. He could never hurt Roderich, Gilbert acknowledged. _Of course,_ Gilbert thought to himself as he dodged another punch, _I'm not going to let myself get beaten either._

Roderich was shaking with long suppressed rage he wasn't even aware of until now. It got through his brain that he was never going to hit the nation that once lived on war after a few more physical attempts of violence. So Roderich used the words that Gilbert was so horrible at expressing to harm him more than his fists ever could.

"How _dare_ you touch me? How could you, a kingdom without a nation, a freak of nature, think you were worthy of touching me?" Roderich took in Prussia's stricken expression and laughed. "Don't like to be reminded how far you've fallen, do you? Or are you surprised by my animosity towards you? You shouldn't be, considering how I have only ever shown you the disgust I feel in your presence."

Prussia stumbled, thrown by the hatred in Roderich's voice and bespeckled violet eyes, forgetting to mask his face with arrogance at the sight of the often pale face flushed. How had he not seen this? Austria continued, sadistically loving the growing pain in the other's eyes, walking towards the man. His lip curled in distaste as he scoffed. "What? You thought that I would actually be able to love you back? You think my standards so low as to stoop to your level? Please."

On some level of consciousness, Roderich told himself to stop, that he was being too harsh and not entirely truthful. He fought himself to recall civility, but his rage managed to bite out one last sentence. Leaning into the man, he snarled, "I would have been happier than I am now if you had died with your nation."

Prussia reacted like he had been slapped, flinching away from the Austrian as tears stung his red eyes. He didn't think, couldn't think. Gilbert ran out of the room, missing the shocked expression of the Austrian. Roderich, now silent, sunk to his knees, wondering what he had just done to the only one who had ever selflessly loved him.

* * *

Gilbert ended up in the room that he had been staying in for the past month. He saw his clothes strewn about the floor, obscuring the crimson carpet that matched his eyes. His eyes flew the yet unmade bed, where he had thought for hours over how he would confess his feelings for Roderich, about how happy they would be together when he accepted him. So many thoughts and moments that he shared with Roderich flew through his mind, torturing him with their togetherness. It was too much.

Collapsing as his knees gave out, Gilbert gasped at the sudden pain in his chest threatening to crush him. _So heavy,_ he thought as his black dots started to dance in his vision. _Can't breathe._

A small chirp brought him back to himself and brought him from the brink of an episode. A flash of yellow flew towards the albino, the cheerful color of the bird clashing with the anguish of its master. But, as a part of Gilbert's public face, the nation conjured a slight smirk for his pet, rebuilding his mask and suppressing his feelings. He had taught himself long ago how to be numb when things got too hard; it was how he survived all his wars, loneliness, and the loss of his nation. The numbness was a shield that would allow him to function and he cowered behind it. The real trick was not being consumed by it, not again.

"Hey, Gilbird," he said, conjuring a cocky tone from the depths of his being. He was a survivor, dammit. Fuck everyone who thought otherwise. "Let's blow this joint. It's become far too unawesome to contain my awesomeness." The bird chirped and flew up to nestle in his master's silver hair.

Gilbert didn't bother with packing his clothes. His near-breakdown moments ago told him that he would never wear the clothes in here again. He grabbed his wallet, passport, extra cash, and leather jacket and then left the room.

He walked through the opulent house without really seeing it, focused on reaching the front door with single minded determination. Movement out the corner of his eye stopped him, turning him to face his reflection in the same silver mirror that betrayed him only two weeks ago.

Gilbert took in his leanly muscled frame, clothed in a black t-shirt and jeans that hugged him just right. In one pale hand was his wallet and passport while the other held the jacket loosely at his side. What would strike others as a frightening combination of red eyes and silver hair was natural for him. _Of course,_ he thought bitterly to himself, looking at his silver hair as Roderich's words echoed in his mind _, I had to inherit a mutation of albinism on top of the unusualness of the condition itself._ The last thing he noticed about himself was the shininess of his face. Transferring the jacket to his other arm, he tentatively touched his cheek. It wasn't until then that he noticed he was crying.

Blinking at himself, Gilbert wiped away the moisture and continued towards the door. He put on his jacket and boots as he pocketed his keys and other essentials. Gilbird moved to his shoulder as Prussia put on his black riding helmet. Opening the door to a bright, sunny day, Gilbert cursed. _Why is it that every day I feel like shit the weather is beautiful?_

Shaking off bitterness towards the weather, he walked to his black-on-black Ducati Streetfighter. The model was a few years old, but was custom built for him and rode like a dream. Swinging his leg over the bike, Gilbert spoke to his avian companion. "Meet me at West's house, Gilbird."

The little bird chirped then zoomed away, far faster than any bird should be able to. Smirking, Gilbert started up the bike, enjoying the vibrations and noise coming from the machine, completely unaware of the Austrian running through his house at the noise. After revving the engine once, Gilbert sped through the gate of the Austrian's estate, unable to hear his name being called regretfully by the man who broke his heart.

Prussia did not look back.


	2. Chapter 1: Disappearing Act

It wasn't until Gilbert stopped to get some gas that he noticed that he forgot his phone in the rush to get the hell out of dodge. He shrugged at the realization. He didn't feel like talking to anyone anyway. _Besides,_ he thought, getting back on the road, _why would anyone call me?_

Everyone was busy having lives. Tony was with that sour Italian bastard. Francis was probably hosting a party. West had Feliciano to deal with. Alistair was probably bugging Arthur. Matthias was probably harassing Lukas or Berwald. Roderich… well, he never called him. _Who would even bother to call me?_

For the rest of the six hour trip from Vienna to Berlin (Gilbert truly thought the speed limit signs were mere suggestions), Prussia did his best not to think about anything, especially not what just happened. He took in the speeding scenery, the feel of the road disappearing behind him and the rumble of his bike. It was almost like he was meditating, riding his bike. He never felt so calm, yet so alive, as when he zoomed down an empty highway in the open air. It was freeing.

Of course, it ended far too soon. It was evening by the time Gilbert pulled up to his brother's home. The large brick house was just far enough outside of Berlin proper to avoid crowding so common in the city, yet still a commutable distance to the capital. Parking the Streetfighter next to Ludwig's Ducati Monster, Gilbert walked into the house smelling fresh pasta and hearing Feliciano's puttering from the kitchen. Gilbert smiled slightly at the normalcy of his brother's home before loudly announcing, "The awesome me has arrived!"

There was a crash from the kitchen that ended quickly yet was followed by heavy, hurried steps from upstairs. Gilbert chuckled quietly to himself, rushing to the kitchen to check on his brother's partner. "Feli, you okay? Cause it would be completely unawesome if you were hurt."

North Italy looked up with his eyes almost closed in that funny way of his and his light brown hair a little awry... "Ve~, I'm okay, Gilbert." Beside him were a broken plate and a clean cast iron pan that reminded Gilbert of the one Hungary liked to wave around. Italy got up and gave his (basically) brother-in-law a hug that made Prussia pat his head. "Welcome home!"

"Feliciano, are you okay? Is anything broken? Is there a mess?" In charged the younger German brother with his priorities in order. Prussia doubted that he was yet noticed as Germany's eyes frantically scanned the man he loved for injuries.

"Ve~, I'm okay, Luddy. And look: I only broke one plate and I didn't even make that big of a mess! Ooooh, the pasta's ready, too!"

Content that Feli was okay, Ludwig finally looked at the man who raised him. It always amused Gilbert how serious he looked with his light blue eyes and slicked back blonde hair. It's hard to take your brother completely seriously when you're the one who potty trained him. "Hallo, bruder."

"Hey, West. What's up?" The younger German bent his massive body slightly to get the broom to sweep up the plate while Gilbert, in an impulse to be useful cleaning for once, picked up the pot.

"I spoke to Roderich."

That froze the Prussian's actions, but only for a second. _A little blunt, West…_ He forced a teasing light into his eyes as he cackled. "Kesesesese, and how is Specs doin'? Missing me already?"

"Not exact-"

"How is Mr. Austria doing? Does he want to come visit? It's been a while since I've seen him. We should invite him over, Luddy," Feliciano interrupted while plating the pasta. "Ve~ you're lucky, Gilbert. I made just enough for three!"

"Thanks, Feli. You're awesome. I'm a little tired from my ride over, so I'm gonna go eat downstairs, okay?"

Ludwig narrowed his eyes, but Feliciano was oblivious to the fraternal exchanges. "Sure. Tell me if you like it!"

Taking his plate, Gilbert quickly exited the room, saying, "You're cooking is always awesome, Feli. However, I think West is feeling the opposite. Can you give him a hug for me? He likes you better."

"Gilbert-"

"Ve~, you should always tell me when you need some hug therapy, Luddy!"

Ludwig sighed as he heard the basement door click shut and lock as his partner latched on to him. He hugged the Italian back, assuring him that he was okay, knowing that he had been thwarted for the moment. But he had already set a trap that was just waiting to be sprung.

* * *

Gilbert released a sigh of relief as he successful avoided his brother and got food out of the deal. He had been too nervous to eat breakfast that morning and his cooking attempt was more for…Plus he had been too zoned out to eat on the road, so Feliciano could not have better timing.

Sitting on his bed, Gilbert stared at the flag hanging on the wall that had once represented his nation. Now it mocked him. _You don't like to be reminded how far you've fallen, do you?_

Gilbert shoveled the food into his mouth, barely tasting the delicious pasta. He needed a distraction that didn't involve an empty stomach, so the food was really a means to an end. Putting his plate on the dark wood of his night stand, he walked over to the mini-fridge he kept specifically for his stash of beer. After Ludwig complained that he drank all the beer, the Prussian decided that he would buy his own just to avoid hearing his bother lecture him for the twenty-one millionth time. Shit got old.

Gilbert stove towards the door of the fridge with the drive of an addict walking towards his next hit. Ripping back the door, he stared incomprehensively at the empty shelves. He had at least 12 bottles in here when he left. _The_ _fuck…_

There was a sticky note on the top shelf. Bringing the offending object close to his face, he scanned the oh-so-familiar neat script. 'Bruder, we need to talk. Ludwig.'

_He. Messed. With. My. Beer._

Under the haze of impotent rage, Gilbert understood that this was Ludwig's way of telling him he was serious. But there were a very few things that were sacred to the Prussian: his flag, his family, and his beer. His friends were up there too, but with some exceptions (if someone messed with his friends he would make fun of them then help get revenge). But that wasn't the point. Ludwig knew how important beer was. Then he messed with it.

Gilbert was halfway up the stairs when he stopped and used his brain for a second. _Okay,_ he reasoned. _West wants to talk about something I wish to avoid. If I storm up there he would just use his monster arms to hold me captive until I start talking for need of the bathroom. Unawesome clever bastard._

An idea occurred to Gilbert that would solve his problems at the source. He couldn't talk if he wasn't there. _You may be clever, West, but you forget who raised you to be so smart._

There was a soft clicking at the window to his right. Reaching over to open it, Gilbird flew in with ruffled feathers and alighted on his master's shoulder. "We're going on an adventure, Gilbird. Kesesesese, it's time to disappear."

* * *

Prussia was blasting music in an attempt to piss Ludwig off while packing a medium sized backpack that would be easy to carry on his bike. Passport, money, toothbrush, other toiletries, underwear, Gilbird stuff… now all he needed was clothes. The one problem was… he didn't know where he was going yet and, being as it was late September, he really needed to consider this in his packing. While he could always buy more clothes later, he needed to have something for at least a few days.

"What's our destination, Gilbird?" Prussia mused out loud. "I can't go to Tony's or Francy-pants; those are the first places West will look. The same applies to Alistair and Matthias. Kiku is also out and I actually prefer to go somewhere that speaks German or English since my French and Spanish are a bit rusty…"

Gilbird chirped and flew over to the silver globe that Russian asshole had given Gilbert when he left his oh-so-tender care in 1989, one last power game. He would have tossed it if he didn't like it so much. It was old enough to still have Prussia on the map so he kept it for sentimental reasons (globes with his nation on it were exceedingly rare). Gilbird chirped again as he landed on the silver axis that held the globe then pecked a nation near the top. "Gilbird, there is no way in _hell_ I'm going back to…"

It wasn't Russia that his little companion picked. No, it was a place almost as large, but so much better to disappear in (and without the presence of Braginski,which was necessary for so many reasons). "We're packing warm, Gilbird. Let's make a new friend."

* * *

It was midnight when Gilbert emerged from the basement. Gilbird left for Scotland, Gilbert's chosen point of departure, hours ago. Alistair knew how to keep a secret and loved mischief even more than Prussia. Gilbert trusted his friend to stay quiet.

Leaving a note for West under a tomato left on the counter, Gilbert did his best to ignore the creaking noises coming from upstairs. While he had timed his departure for this (Ludwig was pretty distracted at that point), that did not mean that he wanted to hear his brother doing the deed.

"Ludwig…!" Feliciano shouted, causing Prussia to hasten his retreat and cringe. _Do not want to hear this…_

"You're mine, Feliciano," Ludwig said in an uncharacteristic display of passion (though with the typical amount of possessiveness). The next creek was accompanied with a series of bangs. " _Mine_. Say it."

The response was immediate. "I'm yours, Ludwig, only yours," Feliciano moaned. "And you're mine. Forever… "

It took all of Prussia's effort not to slam the door to the garage in desperation to block out the sounds. But the damage was done. Prussia pushed his bike out of the garage and down the drive way (it was quieter this way), hearing those words, that affirmation of _belonging_ , race through his head. Putting on his helmet, Gilbert could not help but long for that love, that certainty that someone loved him, needed him, more than anything. It was like rubbing salt into the fresh wound Roderich left. He would survive to see this wound become just another scar, like the dozens that decorated his body. But, for now, it burned _so much_ , only to be drowned by the calm of riding west towards his escape. For a time, even if it was just a few hours, Gilbert could forget what he knew he could never have.


	3. Chapter 2: Lost and Found

Ludwig walked down to the kitchen as quietly as his large body would allow. It was 7:30 and it was time for his morning cup of coffee. Feliciano was still knocked out, tired from their nightly…activities and a tendency to sleep too much. Ludwig had been waking up at 7 A.M. for as long as he could remember. There was always something that had to be done. Before he connected to Feliciano during the Great War, he found himself with some leisure time for reading books or listening to music. Now it was all he could do to finish the bare minimum of tasks with Feliciano in his life. And he wouldn't have it any other way.

Of course, Feliciano at times required more energy to deal with than running his nation, so a morning cup of coffee had been added to his routine during the inter-war years. Ludwig wouldn't say he was addicted… just that he was much 'grumpier' (as Feliciano would say) without it. And no one liked to be around a grumpy Germany, so other nations had taken to sending the blonde nation gourmet coffee beans to keep him well stocked.

Pressing the button on the coffee machine to begin the brewing process (Germany had prepared the beans last night), he noticed the large tomato on the counter next to the fridge. Sighing, Ludwig replaced the fruit in the bowl in the center of the isle, not noticing the small note previously obscured until he turned around. Frowning, he picked up the sticky note and recognized the messy script. It wasn't as bad as Feliciano's (so bad he had deemed it 'idiot' instead of English), but it was sloppy and rushed. Gilbert.

'West. You messed with my beer. That is a violation of the Code of German Brothers and this makes you completely unawesome. I'm heading to Spain. Be back when I'll be back. Your brother, King of Awesomeness. P.S. Forget whatever Specs said. I'm awesome and always will be.'

Ludwig shook his head, grasping his now ready cup of coffee. He knew that his brother was anything but fine. Ludwig caught the flash of pain in Gilbert's eyes and his hesitation when he mentioned Roderich the night before. Gilbert avoided him last night, even after he discovered his beer was missing. That alone told him how serious the situation was, never mind the way he was _acting_. The increase in the use of the word "awesome" alone... Ludwig needed to call Antonio to give him a heads up about the state his brother was in. Gilbert didn't have to talk to him, but he needed to talk to someone, dammit. Antonio would do.

Ludwig was halfway to his phone when he remembered the time. If anything, Spain and South Italy were worse than Feliciano when it came to sleeping in. Shaking his head, Ludwig went upstairs to his office. He might as well be productive while he waits for the world to finally wake up.

* * *

Meanwhile, Gilbert was nearing the boarder of France. He had not stopped to rest nor did he feel tired, despite the fact that he had been up for approximately twenty-four hours. And he was breaking every speed limit he came across (although, admittedly, there were not that many in Germany since Gilbert avoided large population centers). It took him only an hour and an half to get through Belgium. At this rate, he would reach the Channel Tunnel in about four hours.

He pulled up to the line at the border check point, expecting to get through easily. A booth was marked a small globe. The symbol, which resembled the United Nation's logo with an 'N' in the middle, signified that a human was on duty that understood the existence of Nations and kept them secret. Slowly progressing in the line, Gilbert pulled out his German passport, ignoring the bitterness that he couldn't even carry a passport with his country name. There was a small Nations symbol in the top left corner of the personal information page, identifying him for what he was. Sighing slightly to himself, he flipped up the visor of his helmet and began talking to the familiar border guard.

"Hey, Damien. What's up?"

The human male looked up at being addressed by his name. Large brown eyes widened under short blonde hair when he recognized the red eyes staring back at him and the loud bike underneath its rider. Clearing his throat, Damien smiled politely. "Good morning, Mr. Beilschmidt. You're up early." Taking the passport and stamping it, Damien asked, "Would you like me to contact Mr. Bonnefoy to inform him of your arrival?"

That stung a bit. Gilbert knew that the man was just trying to be polite, but the fact that Damien asked rather than just informing Francis of the presence of another country within his borders was a subtle reminder that he was without a nation and, therefore, any real standing in the world. If it was Ludwig instead of Gilbert, Damien would have called Francis so fast… Gilbert brushed it off. "Kesese, no thanks. I would rather surprise him."

Handing over the passport, Damien was oblivious to the blow he just dealt. "Alright, have a nice time in France!"

Pocketing the passport, Gilbert waved slightly, flipped down the visor, and then gunned the bike through the area, popping a slight wheelie in his haste. As the wind rushed by, Gilbert focused on the thrill of the ride, forgetting the constant reminders of his past as he raced towards his final destination.

* * *

It was now noon and Ludwig was getting impatient. Feliciano had been up for two hours and had already made a mess of the kitchen _and_ living room. Currently, his lover was in his art studio, painting and no doubt making another mess. Germany rubbed in eyes and reached for the phone. In this brief moment of peace, he decided to call Antonio, figuring the nation should be up by now.

"Buenos días."

"Gut morgen, Antonio." There was a brief silence on the other end before Spain replied.

"What's wrong, Germany?" Ludwig frowned. _Why is it,_ Ludwig thought, _that every time I call someone they automatically assume something is wrong?_

"Ah…yes. It's Gilbert. You see-"

"What happened? I thought he was staying with Austria? Did Roderich finally snap? Cause if he did I could call Francis really-"

"Nein, Roderich did not physically harm Gilbert." Silence yet again. Antonio was one of the few who knew Gilbert was in love with the Austrian, so it was what Ludwig didn't say that made him pause. He may act stupid and overly happy but all nations carried a certain intelligence that was sometimes masked by their personalities (yes, even Feliciano). Spain read between the lines.

"How bad is it?"

"I'm not quite sure. He left before I could speak to him properly. He left me a note saying he was headed your way-"

"Ludwig, I can almost guarantee he is not coming here."

"What?"

Antonio could not believe how dense the German nation could be when it came to emotional problems. "Think, Ludwig. He just had his heart broken. Would he really go somewhere that had a loving, functional couple in proximity? Lovino may not be the most affectionate but he loves me despite himself. Do you really think Gilbert wants to be around to deliriously happy people while he's miserable?" After a slight pause, he added, "Plus, I haven't seen a sign of Gilbird."

Ludwig was silent for a moment. "Then where is he?"

Antonio sighed. "Gilbert speaks German, English, French and Spanish almost fluently. And his Russian is decent. He could be almost anywhere."

* * *

By the time Prussia entered Edinburgh area, it was late evening. He had ridden through the rain that was a constant in England, which only slowed him down a little. He had only stopped for gas and a little food. He was tired, but decided that he could sleep on the plane. There would be nothing better to do on his transatlantic flight. It would either be sleep or thoughts about Roderich. Three guesses which one he chose and the first two don't count.

His friend Alistair lived in a small town not far outside of Edinburgh called Bathgate. While actually going to Scotland's house was a little out of the way from the airport at Edinburgh, he had to collect Gilbird and talk with his co-conspirator for this whole fiasco. In order to, you know, see if his future host was going to accept him or throw him back to his brother.

There was a break in rolling green hills as the town came into view. A smattering of lights identified which houses were occupied or empty, which had active or sleeping inhabitants. After driving down a couple of cobblestone roads, Prussia pulled up to Alistair's house and was greeted not by the redhead but by a small chirp. Removing his helmet, his vision was assaulted with a furiously flapping yellow bird centimeters from his face. _CHIRP!_

"Whoa, Gilbird. Calm down." Offering his gloved bare, cold palm for the bird to land in, Prussia felt like he was on the receiving end of an avian lecture. "What did I do?"

"Do ye nae think tha' maybe yer wee bird was tired of flyin'?" Gilbert's eyes snapped to his friend's grass green irises. The Scotsman was as tall as Gilbert and just a little lankier. The disarray of the dark red hair, the slightly slumped posture and the devil-may-care look in his eyes made it clear that Alistair was not on the side of angels. But, then again, neither was Gilbert.

Dressed in a dark maroon sweater and black jeans, Alistair leaned against the doorframe to his flat faced, brick house (which was overrun with climbing moss). With arms crossed and eyebrow cocked, he regarded his Prussian friend as he dismounted the bike. It was obvious that the Prussian needed either sleep or copious amounts of alcohol. Perhaps both. There was a shadow of developing dark circles under his eyes and a slight twitch at the left corner of his mouth that gave away his fatigue. Gilbert's tells were all too easy to read for Scotland.

It only made sense. Gilbert was almost a younger version of Scotland. Both had raised their brothers to be powerful nations only to be lost in the shuffle. They knew how to have fun and carried scars from pasts that they would rather forget. It made it harder for Alistair to see Gilbert hurting because it was all too easy to imagine himself in the other's shoes.

Gilbert realized that he was being observed closely but focused on the little bundle in his hands. "I'm sorry, Gilbird. It was completely unawesome to make you fly from Roderich to Alistair. Can you please forgive me? I'll get you some fresh worms…"

At the mention of worms, Gilbird stopped chirping angrily, was silent for a moment, and then huffed (as much as a small yellow bird could). Seemingly satisfied that he was getting a treat later, Gilbird flew up to nestle in Prussia's hair, making a further mess of it.

Content that his feathered companion was calmed, Gilbert turned towards his friend, "You know, Scottie, it would be awesome if I could come in for a second. Got any worms?"

"Why tha hell would I have worms, Gilly?" Alistair stepped back and walked further into his house, knowing the Prussian was following him.

"You fish…occasionally."

"Aye, I do, but nae recently. But 'e both kno' tha' what ye want is nae worms." Alistair walked behind the mahogany bar in his den and placed a fifth of scotch on the bar top. "Ye beer is nae gonna be enough this time."

Gilbert sighed. "What did he say?"

"He said yea so quickly tha' I did nae have time to tell him who was commin'," Alistair replied, pouring Gilbert a double.

Gilbert hesitated before knocking back the fine liquor like a shot. "What?"

"I tried to tell 'em, I did. But he was jus' so excited tha' I could nae explain what he agreed to. I think tha' tha lad has been a wee bit lonely."

"Showing your age there, Scottie. Well, the only one he deals with on a daily basis is his bruder…"

"Aye, tha' yank would make anyone wish fo' more company. He said tha' he would pick ye up from tha airport. And most forget tha' I'm older dan me brother."

Gilbert knocked back another finger of the liquor, enjoying the warmth it brought. "You know it's awesome of you to help me out with this."

"Heh, let's nae get sentimental. We're e'en from tha' time with tha police lass…"

"Kesesese, good times, good times."

"Gilly," Alistair said seriously, "I understan' why ye need to leave. But I'm here for ye if ye wan' to talk."

Gilbert opened his mouth to say that he was awesome now and would always be, but he closed it remembering who he was talking to. Alistair carried his own romantic burdens that were in many ways more painful than Gilbert's. So instead, he nodded and simply said, "Danke."

He had made the right decision to come to Alistair instead of Francis or Antonio. Who would understand his heartbreak more than someone who felt it every time he saw his brother in the arms of the American?

* * *

The following day, Ludwig had organized a conference call between Gilbert's closest friends and himself. He was deeply worried about his brother, knowing that if Feliciano had rejected him all those years ago he would have needed to talk to someone, anyone about it. At that point, he only remembered loving Feliciano for a few years but Gilbert loved Roderich for _centuries…_

"So have any of you seen or heard from mein bruder?"

"No, I haven't. There has been no sign of him at my borders and Lovi checked with the Italian government too with no result."

"No," replied the Dane. Matthais was concerned for Gilbert, but more than a little shocked that his drinking buddy had been in love with that stuck-up priss of an Austrian. "He hasn't crossed into Denmark or any of the Scandinavian countries. I checked with the rest us Nordics earlier."

"Non," the Frenchman replied, "But he did cross my northeast border with Belgium yesterday morning."

There was a silence. "How did you not know this earlier," asked Ludwig. "All Nations are informed when other Nations cross into the borders."

"Gilbert and I have been friends almost constantly since the War of Austrian Succession. And he's not exactly a nation anymore so I took him off the alert list. I was informed by the worker on duty that he wanted his visit to be a 'surprise.'"

Germany sighed, "Well, he could not have gotten too far-"

"Ye all are arseholes."

A chorus of 'excuse me's' in different languages echoed across the phone lines. Scotland just snickered into the phone.

"Ye deaf now, are ye. I said tha' ye all are arseholes. Have ye considered that Gilly does nae want to be found? Tha' he needs some time t' adjust to his pain? O' have ye all jus' been thinkin' bout what ye'd feel in this situation?" Silence. "I thought so. This is Gilly we're talkin' bout. Forcing 'em to talk will nae help. Stop thinkin' bout yeselves and focus on 'em."

Germany spoke into the stretch of quiet that followed. "You know where his is." It wasn't a question but Alistair answered it all the same.

"Ye damn straight I do. He's fine where he is. Leave 'em alone fer a bit."

"Mon ami, but where-" Francis was cut off but a low toned click, signaling that Scotland had left the call.

"Good enough for me," announced Matthias as followed the Scotsman's example and hung up.

"Ja, maybe Scotland it right." There was a loud crash in the background. "I have to go. Felici-" Germany was gone.

"Francis-"

"Oui, I agree."

Nothing more needed to be said as France and Spain hung up. They would find Gilbert even if he did not wish to be found.

* * *

Matthew Williams was shaking with excitement as he stood in the baggage claim section of the Toronto airport. It was one in the morning, but the Nation was beyond caring. It had been so long, _so_ long since anyone had visited him that wasn't Alfred or Francis. He saw everyone at the world meetings, but when he was there, even when he was giving a presentation, people looked right through him, even Arthur (and he helped raise him!). He was the second largest nation in the world and people forgot he existed.

_But not this time_. Matthew thought to himself. This time someone sought him out. Lightly hopping on the balls of his feet as the message board stated that the flight from Edinburgh had arrived on time, the baby polar bear in his arms woke up from his nap. People would usually notice if someone had an endangered animal in their arms but even humans didn't notice him. "Who are you," the small bear asked.

Matthew sighed. "I'm Canada."

When Alistair called him earlier that afternoon, Matthew was ecstatic. Scotland wasn't the friendliest of the UK brothers, but he never treated Matthew like he didn't exist when he lived in England's house nor was mean to him. In fact, he actually called every once in a while to check in! Unfortunately, Matthew had forgotten to ask about who he was hosting, but he just went on the assumption that his house guest would be a man. He stocked up on ingredients for pancakes, cleaned his house until it was spotless and bought tickets to a local hockey game. The NHL was currently on lock out ( _again_ ), but there were plenty of games to go to that were still fun to watch.

So prepared, Canada waited as the first couple of people came through customs to pick up their bags. Dozens of humans retrieved their bags without fanfare, but no nation had yet to emerge. Slightly concerned, Canada walked to the customs exit only to be stopped by a guard.

"Sir, you cannot enter this-"

Matthew smiled as he flashed his all access security pass that came with being a Nation. The guard apologized and moved out the way. Canada continued walking until the sounds of muffled shouting reached his ears.

"I _told_ you. Gilbird is not carrying any diseases and will not be caged. You can't cage awesomeness."

Matthew stopped in his tracks. _Oh dear,_ he thought to himself. He had never personally spoken to the personification of Prussia (indeed, he had only seen him from a distance or in pictures), but from what he had heard from Francis, no other Nation had a pet named Gilbird. Walking towards the confrontation with a subdued sigh, Matthew was almost unnoticed by the guards.

"Excuse me."

Gilbert turned immediately towards the soft sound and searched for its source. His eyes found the most beautiful man he had ever seen. He thought it was impossible for anyone to be more gorgeous than Roderich but man, had he been wrong.

Eyes so blue they were almost purple stared at him from behind oval, rimless glasses. Cream pale skin was stretched delicately over fine but masculine features as honey blonde hair fell from his head. One lone curl hovered in front of his face and moved with every breath from pink lips. The man was a little shorter than Prussia and seemed… softer in his tan jacket and cream boots. The cute little bear in his arms (holy shit, it was real!) didn't help the man seem...well, manly.

The man handed over a badge to the customs official who wouldn't let Gilbert leave. "The bird is fine. This man is with me."

Gilbert became aware of his gob smacked expression and reigned himself in. "See, I told you Gilbird was fine. Kesese, awesome timing, Cana- Matthew! Danke."

Maythew turned to finally look Prussia in the face and blinked at the raw masculinity there. He knew what Gilbert looked like from pictures but damn…Remembering himself, Canada smiled.

Gilbert blinked at the way the expression lighted up the other man's face. _What the hell is wrong with me_ , he thought.

Matthew, oblivious to his effect on the former nation, replied, "No problem at all, Pru- Gilbert. Welcome to Canada."


	4. Chapter 3: First Impressions

"So, how was your flight?" Matthew asked Gilbert as they walked out of customs. His excitement of having a guest was dimmed slightly as he came to the realization that he had no idea how to talk to the Nation beside him. Between hearing Arthur complain about Prussia as a teenager and Francis' wild stories, it was difficult to get past the picture in his head. A sudden wave of anxiety hit Canada. _How in the world am I supposed to keep this man entertained?_

"Oh, it was awesome…from what I remember. I slept like a baby through most of it though." Gilbert said distractedly. He was more concerned by his reactions to the polite person and the fact that he didn't know how to act around Matthew. He was determined not to overstay his welcome and get kicked back to Europe to face his brother who would no doubt use those bondage skills of his to tie Gilbert up until he talked. Gilbert needed to make a good impression…yet found himself slightly tongue tied around the cute man. No, cute wasn't quite the word…Beautiful. Matthew was beautiful.

Matthew bit his lip slightly, drawing Gilbert's gaze before Prussia quickly looked away with a slight blush. Matthew, oblivious, said, "Umm, maybe that wasn't the best idea. Sleeping on the plane, that is."

"Why?"

Mathew laughed nervously. "It's one-thirty in the morning now."

Gilbert finally looked around and found himself in the baggage claim area with a "Welcome to Toronto!" sign above glass doors that confirmed Mathew's words. It was really dark outside. Gilbert shrugged. "I'll manage. Where did you park?"

Matthew hesitated in his steps, almost stumbling. He took in the knapsack on the Prussian's back and the riding helmet in his hand with some wariness. "You don't have any more bags? A suitcase or…a vehicle?"

"Naw, I pack light." And left in a hurry. But Matthew didn't need to know that. "What do you mean by…?" Gilbert remembered the helmet in his hand. After carrying it for so long, he kind of forgot it was there. "Oh, this. I had my bike shipped over from Scotland. I figured that you probably had other things to do than chauffeur me around, so I'm providing my own transportation. Is that alright?"

"O-oh, okay. That's…considerate of you. Just follow me." Matthew led the way to the parking garage. He could have parked in the 'Loading Only' zone as a Nation (yeah, they got those kinds of perks), but just because he could didn't mean he should. Matthew acted like a human when he was out in public. It made him feel like everyone else despite the fact he was quite different. It made him feel less alone.

Matthew became aware that his words may be construed as impolite. "It's not that I don't mind driving you places! I would love to show you around the city and hang out with you. I just meant that-"

"Whoa, calm down, Mattie. I understood what you meant. No harm, no foul."

Matthew blinked. "Mattie?"

"Ja, you don't mind, do you? Canada is kinda a mouthful and since I'm going to be staying with you for a while, it would be awesome if we addressed each other like friends rather than the relative strangers that we are. You can call me Gilbert, Gil or any other awesome name that you like. Just not Bert. I draw the line at Bert."

Canada chuckled lightly. "Mattie is fine…Gil. Just fine."

Gilbert smirked and Matthew's breath caught as his companion's eyes took on an almost feral light. It should be illegal to look that good. "Mattie, I can tell that we're going to get along awesomely."

* * *

_Chirp!_

Gilbird emerged from his master's hair with a chirp that sounded more than a little disgusted. The chilly air of the Canadian early morning was not what the small bird deemed pleasant and was content to burrow closer to the Prussian's scalp to stay warm. However, after a few minutes in the car, the little bird decided to make his appearance.

"Hey, Gilbird. Be awesome and say hi to Mattie."

The yellow feathered one flew over to the unknown man and landed on top of the steering wheel. The startled Canadian let out a little peep of his own, an embarrassing habit that often was the subject of Alfred's teasing. He could feel Gilbert's gaze on him, so he ignored him to focus on both the road and the bird. "Hello, Gilbird. It's nice to meet you. I'm Canada."

The cute bird blinked small red eyes at the polite nation and gave a chirp of greeting. Then, Gilbird flew over to Prussia's lap and acted like he was looking for something. Gilbert groaned.

"I'm sorry, my man. Scottie didn't have any worms. I promise I will get you some as soon as possible." The bird pecked his leg in response and went to the back seat of the car. Gilbird was apparently sick of Gilbert.

"No bird should have that much attitude," Gilbert said while rubbing his leg. Not that he was hurt; his leg was just cold. That's all. "You wouldn't happen to have any worms at home Mattie, would you?"

"A-ah, no, I can't say that I keep worms. I can take you to get some in the morning if you like…"

"Thanks, Mattie. That would be awesome. Gilbird's just going to keep the attitude until gets a worm or two. I can't neglect him, you know."

"It's no problem, Gil."

There was a short, comfortable silence until Gilbert remembered that he had yet to thank the Canadian for letting him stay. _Way to make a first impression, Gil,_ he thought to himself. _Cause a scene in customs then demand worms before thanking the man for letting you crash at his house and picking you up from the airport at one in the morning. You're a_ real _charmer._

Rubbing his neck, Gilbert felt awkward. He cleared his throat before saying, "Uh, thank you for letting me stay at your house on such short notice. And for picking me up from the airport at this time of night. It's really awesome of you."

Matthew was startled. He had grown comfortable in the silence while his guest was feeling unwelcome. _Bad host_ , Matthew scolded himself before rushing to reassure Gilbert. "No, not at all! I'm more than happy to give you a place to stay. It's been a while since anyone had come to see me and…I'm saying too much." Matthew's face burned with embarrassment as he suddenly became extremely interested in the road. _Great. Now he thinks I'm a loser with no friends. The fact that it's true doesn't help…_

Gilbert's laugh startled Matthew as much as the sudden weight of a hand on his shoulder, causing another little 'eep' to emerge. _Maple! If I don't get a handle on myself…_

Gilbert spoke with laughter apparent in his voice. "If that's the case I'm going to be a model guest and show you a good time." The moment he stopped talking, he realized how perverted that sounded. "I mean, we'll hang out a lot and do fun stuff." _Could I sound any less intelligent,_ Gilbert thought to himself. But he let the sentence stand, not wanting to mess up even more. "What do you like to do for fun?"

"Well, I read and I like cooking. I'm pretty quiet so…"

Gilbert spoke without thinking. "Man, you sound like Roder… Austria." Slight flinch. "There's got to be something else." _If he says 'playing an instrument', I'm jumping out of the car._

 _Well, that was honest,_ Matthew thought to himself. Canada bit his lip as he thought of his other hobbies. Francis always thought he was insane for enjoying dangerous things, but he loved the adrenaline rush. Matthew was unsure if he should tell Gilbert, not wanting to scare off this potential friend. Matthew was unaware that the quiet had expanded into a couple of minutes now, but Gilbert wasn't (nor did he miss the bitten lip).

"Mattie, I didn't mean to diss your hobbies. I just thought that you might do something a little more…exciting that's all. I figured that any man who carries around a polar bear would like to do some different things but I meant no offence by it." _Way to be a model guest, Gil_ , he scolded himself. _Insult the nice Nation taking in your sorry hide. That took, what, 30 seconds? Keep it up and you'll earn a plane ticket back to Berlin before morning! Unawesome dummkopf._

Matthew caught the cringe that crossed Gilbert's face and decided that honesty was the best policy. It would be far more comfortable living with Gilbert if he knew everything now. Not to mention it would be quite hard to hide the various paraphernalia he kept in his house to support his hobby.

"I love extreme sports," Matthew blurted.

Gilbert snapped his head to the man he described earlier as soft and lacking masculinity and asked, "What did you say?"

 _Cat's out of the bag now,_ Matthew thought. _Might as well tell all._ "I said that I love extreme sports, especially the winter ones. Heliskiing, ice-climbing, you name it, I do it. I even went ice diving once. My favorite to do alone is snowkayaking. The adrenaline is so intense. The way your heart races as the snow flies by and you're one wrong move from so much pain… Being so close to the edge creates this high for me. It's hard to describe. But you know what my favorite thing to do is?"

They were stopped at a red light. Gilbert was staring at Matthew, entranced by the passion in his eyes, the flush in his cheeks as he talked about his hobby like it was a guilty pleasure. It was almost like Matthew was showing him the workings of the universe, but it was a secret that he had kept for too long and was dying to share. In awe, Gilbert could only respond with a soft, "No, what's that?"

Matthew gave a dazzling smile. The light changed, so his attention shifted back to driving. But he kept the same excited, almost breathless tone his voice had reached when he said, "Hockey. I love to play hockey."

Entranced, Gilbert found himself leaning in the Canadian and almost growled back, "And why is that?" It was his tone, so involved, that brought Gilbert back to reality. _Whoa there, tiger. Back the fuck up._ Gilbert restrained himself from slamming noticeably back into his seat. _You met the guy not 30 minutes ago and you are ready to molest him just from hearing him talk about what he does for fun. Chill._

Matthew remained unaware of Gilbert's struggle, and continued, "Hockey is the perfect mix of adrenaline and community. The break-neck pace of the game and the need to constantly be aware of your surroundings keeps the adrenaline level at almost a constant. It's too much for most humans to handle for an extended period of time. Tensions are high, nerves on the edge and the world narrows down to your team, your opponents, and the puck. Why do you think so many fights break out?"

Gilbert nodded his head, now firmly in control of himself. He didn't quite understand the game of hockey, but he now understood why it was Canada's pastime. "Do you get to play often?"

The light dimmed from Canada's eyes as his mouth quirked in to a smile that was part bitterness, part sadness, and all resignation. It was the most hopeless smile Gilbert had ever seen and he never wanted to see it again on this man's face. "Hockey is a team sport, Gil. As a Nation, it's not fair to play against humans. Everyone else is too busy to play at any other time than the Winter Olympics." _And no one remembers I exist long enough to make time to play, either._

"Mattie-"

"We're here!" Matthew said is an overly chipper tone, wanting to drop this topic. He pulled into a long gravel driveway that led to a modest white house. At two stories with a back deck visible from the angle of the drive, it looked like a family home. The surrounding line of trees provided much privacy and the land around the house was abundant. There was more land, it seemed, than house, but that suited Gilbert just fine. He was used to living in a basement and the amount of openness the space provided was more than welcome. The light by the front door was slightly overshadowed by a hanging Canadian flag, but still managed to illuminate the stairs leading to the door well.

"Nice," Gilbert said, a little hesitant to break the silence but accepting Matthew's topic change. He understood not wanting to talk about things all too well. Sometimes it's best to let sleeping demons lie.

"Thank you. I have another house near Ottawa, but I prefer living here."

Matthew parked the car and retrieved his bear, sleeping yet again, from the back seat. After Gilbert got Gilbird settled nicely into his hair, he followed Matthew to the house. When Matthew just opened the door, Gilbert looked at him funny. "Uh, I know that we are basically indestructible but it's not a healthy practice to leave your door unlocked."

"Gilbert, only a fool would come in here that wasn't a Nation. Kumajiro never leaves and no one would mess with him." Mathew took his shoes off by the door, causing Gilbert to follow suit.

"And Kumajiro is…?"

"Oh! How rude of me. I forgot to tell you that you would be living with a polar bear."

"You mean the one in your arms?"

"No, this is Maple Leaf." Heavy rhythmic steps signaled the approach of an exceptionally large animal approaching from his left. His brain registered in the back of his mind that he was looking at a homey living room briefly until it was preoccupied with the chest-high polar bear that walked through the entry way. "That's Kumajiro."

The bear sat down and roared at him.

Gilbert didn't remember moving, but suddenly he was behind Mattthew. _Who the fuck keeps a full grown polar bear in their house as a security guard/pet?_

"Kumajiro," Canada scolded that soft voice of his, "be nice. This is my friend Gilbert. He's going to be staying with us for… a while. I would ask that you refrain from chewing his hair while he sleeps. Now say hello to Gilbert." The bear gruffed at the Prussian and splayed himself out on the floor. "You can pet him if you like."

Gilbert hesitated for a second but then couldn't resist the idea of petting a polar bear. The fur was coarser than it looked and Kumajiro didn't attempt to eat his hand. Mission accomplished. "Kesese, hallo, Kumajiro." Movement in his hair and a small chirp reminded Gilbert of his own companion. "This is Gilbird. I would ask that you please don't eat him. That would be unawesome and I can tell you're the kind of bear that prefers to stay awesome."

Gilbird showed none of his masters concern as he landed on Kumajiro's head, chirping loudly in greeting. The polar bear blinked, growled, seem to think for a second, then closed his eyes and went to sleep in the middle of the floor. Within 30 seconds.

The small polar bear in Canada's arms stirred. Maple Leaf looked at Gilbert then looked at the one holding him. "Who is he?"

Gilbert's jaw dropped. The bear talked. It. Talked. Mathew seemed unfazed. "This is my friend, Gilbert and that bird on Kumajiro's head is Gilbird, his friend."

"Who are you?"

Matthew sighed, "I'm Canada. I feed you."

The little bear blinked up at him for a second then continued. "I'm hungry."

Matthew sighed again. This was his life. "Gil, I'm going to feed Maple Leaf. Could you please follow me? I'll give you an impromptu tour on the way to the kitchen." Gilbert could only nod. He was trying to wrap his head around a talking polar bear. It wasn't quite working.

Matthew started to point out rooms as he walked to the kitchen, still holding the forgetful bear. He mentioned some details about the dining room, breakfast nook and back porch until they finally reached the kitchen. It was modern, but understated with soft creams and dark browns. It fit Matthew perfectly.

It was only when Canada placed the bear on the tile floor and reach for the refrigerator door did Gilbert find his voice again. "Uh, Mattie?"

"Yes?" Mathew withdrew 3 whole, large fish out of the fridge and turned towards Gilbert.

"Maple Leaf just talked."

Matthew looked quizzical for a second then remembered that no other nation had a talking pet. Chuckling slightly, Canada turned towards to place the fish in Maple Leaf's bowl. "Oh, yeah, Maple talks."

"Does Kumajiro talk, too?"

"No," Matthew replied, washing his hands in the sink. "Maple's a bit special. She can talk a little, but she seems to have problems with her memory. Also, she doesn't grow. She's was a cub when I found her 50 years ago and hasn't changed since."

"You _found_ her? Go to the Arctic Circle often?"

Matthew looked at Prussia and noticed that he was still wearing his coat. _I fail as a host!_ "May I take your coat? Would you like anything to eat or drink?"

Reaching for his zipper, Gilbert frowned at the nation in front of him. "I'm good, thanks, but you didn't answer my question."

"Here, give me your coat and I will tell you how I found her as I give you the tour."

Shrugging out of the well worn leather, Gilbert revealed his black long sleeve tee-shirt (which didn't leave much to the imagination) and a black and silver pendant around his neck. Matthew stared for a second, automatically taking the offered jacket. The play of muscles was…Clearing his throat and looking away from his house guest, Matthew launched into his story while showing Gilbert the rest of the house.

The entire time he spoke, Matthew noticed as he pointed the various features of the house how Gilbert _listened_ to him. It was so nice, for once, to talk to someone at length without being interrupted or ignored. Gilbert looked at objects what he was talking about when he broke into his story to mention some random fact about his home. Gilbert laughed when Matthew talked about his shock of discovering Maple Leaf talked. He _paid attention_ to Matthew through a den, game room, living room, basement, office, an exercise room and two bathrooms. By the end of the tour, Matthew glowed with his inner joy.

Gilbert didn't understand what exactly had changed for Matthew to look so happy. With the exception of a brief moment of distraction when Matthew removed his jacket (and subsequent disappointment when he saw a loose sweatshirt), all Gilbert had done was listen to his host who was turning out to be quite interesting. Matthew's quiet excitement and tendency to go off on amusing tangents was forcing Gilbert to really stay on his toes. Of course, and then there was the whole I-love-extreme-sports and these-are-my-two polar-bears thing. Yeah, that could have something to do with it.

* * *

"-And that is how I found and kept a talking polar bear," Matthew finished without fanfare. By this time, all Canada had left to show Gilbert was his room and the room that Gilbert would be staying in.

"Kesesese, awesome story, Mattie."

Matthew was a little nervous. His room was a complete, no-bars-hold representation of himself. And for some reason, he really cared about whether Gilbert liked it or not. Matthew bit his lip as he gathered himself.

 _There's that damn lip biting again_ , Gilbert thought to himself. He was starting to see a pattern. But before Gilbert could ask what was wrong, Matthew opened his door revealing a lot of… red. His jaw dropped slightly as he took in the wall to his left. It was the Canadian flag in paint… and it took up the entire wall. With the rest of the walls white, the flag made a statement. Venturing further in to the room, Gilbert took in the red comforter of the king-sized bed, the giant polar bear plushie in the corner, a door adorned with quirky black analog clock (with a red maple leaf in the center), an assortment of sports gear, and black wood dresser which matched the bed frame. Surprisingly, there was a musket complete with bayonet propped in the arms of the stuffed polar bear. It was… cute, yet masculine. It was Matthew and it made Gilbert smile.

Prussia noted the quiet of his new friend and looked at him. "Awesome bedroom, Mattie. Any interesting little stories you want to share about this room, too?"

Matthew blinked at Gilbert for a second, and then smiled at the man. _He gets me_. Relief hit his senses, only to be quickly followed by a wave of exhaustion. "Not right now, I'm a little tired and…"

Gilbert whipped his head around to the clock on the door presumably leading to the closet. _Fuuuck…_ he thought. It was 3:30. "I'm sorry! I didn't realize that…"

"Gil, it's fine. I was having a good time. It just hit me all at once, that's all. Let me show you to your room." Walking out of the room, Matthew continued, "If you would like anything to drink or eat please help yourself to the kitchen. If you want to take a shower or anything, towels and stuff are in the linen closet which is next to the bathroom on this floor. Uh..."

"Thanks, Mattie, for everything," Prussia said seriously. Matthew looked at the man following him and saw the steady gaze of crimson eyes.

Matthew smiled back, "You're welcome." Opening the door, Canada revealed a more sedate room, done in deep blues and cream. It had less personality, but a more universal appeal than Matthew's room. Setting his bag on the queen sized bed, Gilbert said to a hovering Matthew in an amused tone,

"Mattie?"

"Yes, Gil."

"You can go to sleep now."

"Oh! Umm, good night."

"Good night, Mattie."

Leaving his new friend, Matthew thought briefly how lucky he was Gilbert had decided to come visit. Of course, his desire for sleep overruled all other thoughts as the Canadian rushed through his routine and went to bed.

Down the hall, Gilbert got himself settled by unpacking his bag (which didn't take long) and arraigning up a small place for Gilbird to chill. He wasn't exactly tired, so he wrote about the past few days in his journal (not a diary, dammit). Mathew ended up being the primary topic for a couple of pages, unsurprisingly. Gilbert found himself with so much to say about the nation giving him asylum. From the way he held a quiet strength to the way his eyes sparkled when he talked about hockey. Gilbert felt like they could become great friends, but it was too soon to tell. They had actively known each other for only a few hours but…By the time he was finished with his entry, the sun was rising and his eyes burned. Gilbert got ready for bed and, finally, slept.


	5. Chapter 4: Breakfast and Beginnings

_It was early in the War of Austrian Succession and Prussia was winning. Gilbert felt a familiar smirk cross his face as the sense of triumph filled him. Leaning down over the Nation laying pathetically on ground, the primal joy of victory spilled out of his throat in a sinister cackle._

_"Kesese, you should have known that you were no match for me, Specs. You can bow down to my awesomeness now. Oh, and I'll be taking Silesia." Picking the Austrian nation up with one hand, Gilbert continued. "'Hahaha. Big surprise: you are weak and I am not, loser.'"_

_Then, the memory changed and history tilted on his axis as Roderich, instead of weakly demanding to be unhanded, responded in an evil tone. "Tch. We'll see who gets the last laugh you unsophisticated moron."_

_Gilbert was so caught up in asking for a painter to commemorate this moment that he did not fully register the change in the man before him at first. When he did, Prussia whipped his head around and asked, "What did you just say?"_

_With a sudden strength that startled Gilbert, Roderich took his wrist in a crushing grip, causing the Prussian to fall to his knees. Roderich rose to his feet and answered the once victor in front of him. "You're not deaf, Gilbert. In the end, I win and you lose more than you ever imagined. And do you want to know how you will fall?"_

It's not supposed to happen like this, _Gilbert thought to himself as he refused to answer the Austrian, pain coursing up his arm. He tried to move his other arm to go for a weapon, to fight back, to do anything. Gilbert found himself powerless to do anything but kneel._ This isn't right.

_"Hmm, well I'll tell you anyway. Here's a hint: my nation survives to see the new millennium. Yours does not. It will be among the forgotten and you will fade from importance, not that you have much now. Not even your precious brother will try to save you."_

_Gilbert was shaking his head when he let out a cry of pain as the bones in his wrists were ground together to the breaking point. The Austrian leaned over Gilbert to whisper menacingly in his ear. "But you know what will finally kill you, Gilbert? Do you know how you will learn how truly worthless you are?" Gilbert felt Roderich's lips curl cruelly against his ear in an imitation of a kiss, the touch, despite his pain, making Gilbert's heart skip. All the feelings he suppressed when his boss ordered him to fight this war came rushing back, just in time to be crushed. "When you finally grow the balls to tell me you love me, I will rip your heart out just to watch you bleed, finishing the job the war should have completed."_

_Abruptly, Gilbert felt a searing pain from every wound he had received and had yet to be given: the broken arm from fighting to maintain the small land of the Teutonic Order, the old scars from various duels bleeding afresh, the cut on his cheek that Austria had managed to score. What hurt the  
most were the wounds from wars he had not yet seen: burning lungs from still undeveloped mustard gas and a gunshot wound too close to his heart to be anything but fatal for a human. Gasping in shock, Gilbert looked into the violet eyes he had secretly grown to love in confusion._

_The Austrian just smiled at him. "Goodbye, Gilbert." From nowhere, a fist knocked back Gilbert's head, forcing him to lose balance and fall. Just before his head connected with an unobserved rock, Gilbert saw the painter he summoned, dutifully recording this moment for all to see. Then, everything was black._

* * *

Gasping, Gilbert sat up in bed. His hands flew automatically to the small mass of scar tissue on the left side of his chest, assuring himself that the wound he received on the Eastern front in the Second World War was, indeed, healed. Coming to the realization that he was physically alright, albeit covered in sweat, Gilbert put his head in his hands. On the plane, exhaustion had stolen any dreams he might have had. The feelings and thoughts that Gilbert had repressed over the past two days finally made themselves known and it seemed that they did not appreciate being ignored.

Groaning slightly to himself, Prussia pushed the memories out of his mind as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Throwing back the covers, Gilbert padded over to the window and drew back the curtain. Matthew's front yard looked so bright and cheery in the morning light that Gilbert cussed to himself. _Every time…I swear Mother Nature likes to mock me._

Replacing the curtain with disdain, Gilbert walked out of the bedroom in search of the linen closet. Exiting the room, Gilbert heard the faint clanking of pots and pans from the kitchen. Gilbert was surprised that Matthew was up, since the sun was not that far from the horizon when Gilbert had checked. He listened to his host move around for a second, calmed by the normalcy of cooking sounds and the notion of not being alone (despite the fact that he was avoiding literally everyone he knew). An unknown tension drained from Prussia's shoulders as he went to go shower, hoping that the water would wash away both the sweat and the memory of a dream he'd rather forget.

* * *

Matthew had been up for a while. He had forgotten to turn off his alarm clock in his haste to get to sleep and was rudely awakened by an incessant beeping at 6:30 in the morning. Thus far, he had showered, dressed and run to the closest fish and tackle store to buy Gilbird some earthworms. While Matthew had been unsure if the earthworms were okay for the small bird when he bought them, he took the chance, figuring that, if he was wrong, Gilbert could just go with him later during the day to fix the mistake. Upon returning, Matthew had a small panic attack when he couldn't find Gilbird, but was relieved 20 minutes later when he saw the small yellow bird sitting atop Kumajiro's head. They were both outside, enjoying the early morning air it seemed.

Content that his guest's bird had not flown the coop, Canada fed Maple Leaf and started on breakfast for the more hominid inhabitants of the house. While Matthew didn't expect Gilbert to be up anytime soon (it was only 8:30 or so), breakfast always took a while to prepare, considering the pancakes were made from scratch and in copious amounts.

Taking out the necessary pans and ingredients, Matthew was surprised to hear the sounds of water running from upstairs. _I hope he slept alright…_ Matthew thought. He quickly figured that to be doubtful considering the likely little amount of sleep he guest had gotten. _I'll just ask him what I can do when he comes down_.

Figuring that he no longer needed to be quiet, Mathew put on some music with the help of his iPod and stereo. Pressing 'shuffle,' the Canadian returned to his cooking and waited for his guest to come down so that they could start their first full day together.

* * *

Forty minutes later, Gilbert decided that he was ready to face the world…well, Matthew. He could feel the bass of some song on his bare feet through the floor boards and knew that the polite nation was listening to music. An idea floated through his mind and Gilbert crept downstairs as quietly as he could, hoping to here that cute little 'eep' of surprise Matthew had.

Matthew was oblivious to the nation silently approaching him as he focused on the quickly rising pancake and the song. Humming to himself, Canada moved his hips in time to the fast beat of the song that just came on. It was a Nightcore version of "Hurry up and Save Me" by Tiffany Giardina. While Matthew would never admit to liking the song, he loved the lyrics and the faster beat of the Nightcore version made him happy. So sue him. Gilbert was certainly shocked by the high pitched lyrics of the song, but understood the message of the song. He wondered if the nation was drawn to the bubble-gum nature or to the lyrical content. Remembering what Alistair had said, Gilbert was betting on the latter.

While he had successfully been able to infiltrate the kitchen undetected, Prussia found himself staring at the man cooking what looked like pancakes and smelled like heaven. While the food was distracting, it was the sway of Matthew's hips in jeans that ehld the Prussian captive. Then other movement drew his attention to the white t-shirt that displayed an athletic physique and pale but muscled arms. Prussia blinked and the world beyond Matthew came back into focus.

The song changed into one he recognized, though he was surprised nonetheless when Nephew's "The Danish Way to Rock" came on. Still unaware he had been crept up on, Matthew transferred the now finished pancake to a rather large stack already completed and began the next one without looking up. He was now singing the mix of Danish and English and it was not exactly on key.

"I didn't know you spoke Danish, Mattie."

"Maple!" Mathew just about jumped out of his skin in response to the Prussian's sneaking. This caused the batter in the pan to move into an almost cone shape. _So much for symmetrical_ , thought Mathew in the back of his mind before turning to his guest. _I'll just eat this one._

"You startled me, Gil. Good morning."

"Morning, Mattie. How'd ya sleep?"

"I slept fine. My alarm clock woke me up a bit earlier than I wanted but I slept wonderfully before that. How about you? You're up earlier than I expected…"

"I slept okay."

Matthew frowned, and then turned back around to flip the deformed pancake. "If you need more blankets or something just—"

"It's okay, Mattie, really. I just…had a bad dream."

Canada turned to Prussia with concern in his eyes. He, like all the Nations of the world, had seen and done things he'd rather forget, so he understood that Prussia would likely not want to talk about it. Seeing discretion as the better part of valor (and considering that they started their friendship less than twelve hours ago), Canada nodded solemnly and said, "Breakfast is almost ready. Feel free to sit down. Do you want anything to drink?"

Prussia blinked at Matthew's nonchalance, pleased and surprised by the lack of an offer to 'talk about it.' Smiling slightly to himself, Gilbert answered, "Sure, but I'll get it, if you don't mind."

"Help yourself. My home is yours."

"Thanks, do you need help with anything?"

"Could you grab the maple syrup from the pantry when grab whatever you want to drink from the fringe? The glasses are in that cabinet," Mathew said, gesturing to the wood door in question. "Or do you want something warm to drink?"

Gilbert opened the appliance and zeroed in on the orange juice. He stopped by the pantry and grabbed the maple syrup before heading over to get a glass. "I'll just have some juice. You want anything, Mattie?"

"I'm covered, thank you." Matthew held up a glass of apple juice by the stove where he was almost done with the last pancake and noticed the fridge door was still open. Seeing as how Gilbert was still pouring the orange juice, Matthew didn't say anything even though leaving the refrigerator's door open was one of his pet peeves. Alfred did it all the time when he remembered to visit and it just drove Mathew up the wall. It was wasting energy and—

Gilbert replaced the orange juice and shut the door.

Matthew let loose a sigh that Gilbert noticed. "Are you alright over there?"

Chuckling slightly as his face flushed, Matthew nodded. "I was waiting to see if you would shut the fridge door. Alfred doesn't whenever he visits and it drives me nuts. It's not enough that he eats me out of house and home, but he forgets to close the fridge, especially when he eats in the middle of the night. It's infuriating."

"Okay…mental note to always close the door."

"I didn't mean to imply that you were—"

"Mattie, brothers have this way of making us hate little things. I get it, I really do. West is a compulsive cleaner and I like to leave a bit of a mess behind; I think it makes the house feel lived in. He has confined me to the basement to keep the peace. From the looks of the kitchen," Gilbert looked around for effect, seeing splatters of batter here and there as well as some white powder which could be any number of baking ingredients, "you are not at the Ludwig level of compulsively clean. This is a good thing."

Matthew chuckled and left it at that. "Are you ready to eat?"

"Sure. It smells awesome."

Matthew smiled that eye-twinkling smile that left Gilbert with a bit of vertigo. "It's my specialty."

"Well, alrighty then." Gilbert sat down at the already set table and looked at Matthew. "Thanks for breakfast."

"It's all good. Dig in."

After saying grace (which Matthew raised his eyebrows at but otherwise stayed silent), Gilbert dug in. Mathew thought Gilbert's eyes would pop out when they got dangerously wide after the first bite. Amused, Matthew said nonchalantly, "It tastes better with the syrup."

"It gets BETTER?"

Matthew barely contained himself. It always brought him great joy to see someone try his pancakes for the first time. His favorite time was when Japan nearly freaked out trying to eat as many pancakes as possible without seeming rude or overeager by his standards. But seeing Prussia almost dive for the syrup was a close second.

_Scratch that,_ Matthew thought, watching Prussia's unwitting reaction to the first bite with syrup. _This takes the cake, by far._

The small morsel of food disappeared behind those pale lips and what came next was what Matthew would describe as the most sensual reaction to breakfast he had ever imagined. Gilbert's eyes drifted closed and a low groan came up from the throat. As the nation chewed slowly, a flush of pleasure chased its way across his high, sharp cheek bones. He swallowed almost regretfully, sad to see the food go and licked his bottom lip to get the last drop of syrup that had escaped. When Gilbert opened his red eyes again, they were a little unfocused.

It was over in less than ten seconds. Matthew was leaning over his pancakes with parted lips and was more than a little turned on. It didn't help when Gilbert, still in his post-pancake-with-syrup haze said in a soft voice, "Mattie, that was amazing."

Matthew was polite, but he had limits. He would have metaphorically jumped him then and there if Gilbert hadn't suddenly remembered the fact that he had a whole stack of pancakes and a full bottle of syrup in front of him. Matthew came back to himself as Prussia was about halfway through his first pancake. Chuckling to himself, Matthew blushed but followed the Prussian's example at a more sedate pace.

It was about five minutes later when Gilbert realized that he was eating the pancakes like he was starving. Instantly, Austria's voice flashed through his mind. _Unsophisticated moron…freak of nature…_

Matthew noticed the sudden change in his guest as Gilbert stopped eating all together and sat up straight. "Are you okay?"

"Ja, I'm fine. Look, I'm sorry that I was—"

"-Going at the pancakes like a man dying of hunger?"

Gilbert rubbed the back of his neck, "Ja."

Matthew's good-natured laugh surprised Gilbert, who was expecting the scolding he would have received from Ludwig or Francis or Austria or…damn near anyone. "Gil, I'm happy that you enjoy my food. Truly, you are not the first one to have an…extreme reaction to tasting my pancakes for the first time. I see it as a compliment."

Gilbert scanned his host's open face, looking for any sign that he was joking. Not finding any, Gilbert smiled and went back to his pancakes.

*break*

Back in Europe, Francis and Antonio officially started looking for Gilbert. Uncertain which country to ask first about Gilbert's whereabouts, the duo decided to start at the beginning. Their arrival at the airport in Vienna was met with a car ready to take them to their destination. While the nations had to inform one another of their travel arrangements (with the notable exception of Gilbert), they were not expecting an escort to the Austrian's house.

"He knows why we are here, mon ami," Francis said as they got into the car.

"Sí. I suppose it makes sense since he was the one who called Germany to inform him of what happened. Do you think it's because of a guilty conscience?"

"Come on, Antonio. We both know Roderich too well to think his motives are entirely altruistic. He most likely wants this over with as soon as possible so he can go back to playing that piano."

Spain sighed and looked out the window as they neared Austria's house. As he stared out without really seeing the rushing landscape, Antonio thought about his albino friend. They had known each other for centuries. Back when they had me, Ludwig was still Holy Rome and Lovino attempted to clean the library (he had since stopped trying), and life was good. He had yet to be defeated by Arthur and Gilbert was still called the Teutonic Order. Long ago, Antonio rode on the euphoria of being a world power and recognized the spark in Gilbert's eye that he saw every time he looked in the mirror: the desire for more. More land, more power, more money, it was all the same back then. In a way, life was simpler. It was all about the next conquest and the chase was all consuming.

Then within a century, it had all changed. Problems arose in the New World for Antonio after the defeat of his Armada and then Gilbert suddenly had to become a true big brother for Ludwig after the Thirty Years' War. Life got more complicated as Antonio fought to keep Romano and Gilbert fought to become strong enough for both him and his infirmed younger brother. Francis and Gil didn't really connect until the War of Austrian Succession, but since then Spain, France and Prussia had become near constant friends as people, even through the wars their countries fought with each other.

Antonio smiled sadly as he remembered how Gilbert fought to build a seat of power for both himself and Ludwig. He even went so far as to fight Austria, who he loved, in order to gain territory. He sacrificed his shot at happiness with the aristocrat for the sake of his country and family, even as Antonio saw something die in his eyes when he did it.

Now, years after Gilbert had lost everything he worked so hard for, he had reached out to the man he loved only to be rejected. Whether Gilbert knew it or not, the Prussian needed Antonio and Francis to help him through this. They refused to let him face his misery alone. With the hope of love gone from his life, Antonio didn't know what Prussia would do. This shared fear brought him and Francis to Roderich's house to see just how bad it was.

Immediately after the war, Gilbert didn't have time to contemplate the loss of his homeland. He was assigned to represent East Germany (since they couldn't exactly bisect Ludwig) and was taken to Ivan's house. He wouldn't talk about what happened often, but Antonio knew enough to not to think on it either. With the reunification, Ludwig took over running Germany while he tried to care for his soul-weary brother. Gilbert, as a result, spent much of the 1990s as drunk as his physiology allowed. With the exception of Arthur, it's hard for a nation to get drunk enough for a blackout. Francis and Antonio reconnected with Gilbert and, while concerned, didn't know what to do besides help him along his path to oblivion. _But this time,_ Antonio thought, _is going to be different. We will be there for him. We just have to find him first._

"We will find him, Antonio."

Spain looked at Francis with serious eyes, saw the determination in his gaze, and then nodded. "Yes, we will."

* * *

"Uh, what day is it?"

Matthew glanced at Gilbert in the passenger seat before turning his gaze back to the road. Matthew insisted on heading to a shopping center so that Gilbert could get anything he needed. It turns out that the earthworms were fine for Gilbird, but Prussia only brought a couple of days worth of clothes. Considering that he had _still_ not clarified exactly how long he would be staying (not that Matthew asked), Matthew thought it prudent that he had more. "It's Thursday. Why do you ask?"

Gilbert rubbed the back of his neck, the movement letting Mathew know that Prussia felt uncomfortable about something. "Uh…did you have to work today?"

_How considerate,_ Matthew thought. _Okay, it was an afterthought, really, but he cares!_ Smiling, Matthew answered, "Don't worry about it. My bosses know that I may not be able to come in unexpectedly due to spontaneous visitors, namely America. I think they probably were getting concerned that I hadn't taken a vacation in the past couple of years. The country basically runs itself without my assistance now, but the government always finds something to throw at me to keep me busy…" Matthew became aware who he was talking to and immediately began to apologize, "Gilbert, I'm sorry. I—"

"It's alright, Mattie. I asked. Besides, I don't want you walking on eggshells around me. I know what I am and what I am not and I've largely accepted that. I don't resent you or anything, so don't worry about it."

Matthew chewed his lip, unsure, and mentally scrambled to move on to a new topic. "So, because I have some vacation time, I'm free until the next world meeting. I have a couple of things planned for us to do, if you don't mind." Canada flushed as he realized that he had yet to ask his guest if he likes hockey. As a matter of fact, Mathew talked about himself all last night without inquiring about Gilbert's hobbies, which was out of character for him. Maybe he was so happy just to be noticed that it went to his head. He would have to rectify that as soon as possible.

Gilbert was no mind-reader, but he could tell that something was bothering the Canadian. It looked like Matthew was going to make his lip bleed if he gnawed on it any harder, so Gilbert focused on getting him talking. "Like what?"

"Umm, there's a local hockey game tomorrow that I wanted to take you to. Do you like hockey?"

"I've never seen it played or played it, so—"

"What!"

Gilbert looked at Matthew, who had this look of outrage on his face. His volume didn't really change, but the look in his eyes told Gilbert that he had stepped over a line for the Canadian with his inexperience. They locked eyes for long enough that in the back of his mind Gilbert was concerned about getting into a car crash. Then a look of determination filled Canada's eyes before he turned back to the road.

"We are going to that game."

Who was Gilbert to argue? Judging by the look on Matthew's face, it wouldn't be wise. "Awesome."

"What do you like to do besides being completely unaware of the greatest sport to ever be invented?"

Gilbert wasn't used to this more cheeky side of Matthew, but he found he liked it. "Well, I party with Antonio and Francis a lot. I recreationally raise havoc with Alistair and Matthias. I harass West and Roderich and—"

"So basically you drink alcohol and annoy others." Matthew couldn't help snickering a bit. He could see Prussia raising all sorts of hell that would drive the more sensible nations nuts.

Prussia feigned hurt, "I don't annoy them; I grace them with my awesome presence!"

They came to a stop-light and Matthew doubled over with laughter. Gilbert flirted with the idea that he should be offended by how hilarious Matthew found the notion of him lighting up other people's day, but decided after seeing the grin on Canada's face that he would just let it go.

"I noticed that you didn't refute the drinking alcohol thing."

Prussia pouted. "I do other stuff, too."

Matthew, looked at Gilbert with an eyebrow raise, "Like what, Gil?"

Gilbert hesitated. He didn't often share what he did when he wasn't out drinking or being 'awesome.' Usually, he wouldn't even deny that all he did was party and piss people off. They were some of his favorite pastimes, after all. Gilbert frowned and wondered why he felt the need to not be that person to Matthew, the person who everyone with the exceptions of Alistair, Francis, Antonio and Ludwig (and maybe Feliciano, they did live in the same house, after all) thought he was.

Meanwhile, Matthew remembered that this was a man that he just met and that he was being rude, implying that who Gilbert was, was not enough. It wasn't often that his snarky side came out to play, but when it did, it tended to be scathing. That hockey thing just pushed him over the edge. Matthew bit his lip before opening his mouth to apologize, but Gilbert cut him off before he could say anything. Gilbert spoke in a tone completely devoid of the arrogance that usually flavored his words as he shared himself with Matthew.

"I do a lot of different things. I still do weapon's training. It feels weird not to be at war constantly, so I like to stay in shape with practice. I read a lot of fiction, especially science fiction, fantasy, and urban fantasy. It is kind of a mental escape for me. I also like to sing. Tony taught me play the guitar a while back, so I fiddle around with that when the mood strikes."

"Oh."

"That's all you have to say, Mattie," Gilbert asked as the slight strain of arrogance returned to his words. "Oh?"

Matthew flushed as he pulled into the parking lot. "It's just, from the stories that I remember Francis telling me about your…escapades and your own initial description of your hobbies that it was difficult imagining you doing more than having a good time."

Gilbert smiled slightly then said, as they exited the now parked car, "There's more than one way to have fun, Mattie. Besides, how often do you actually go out and party?"

"Umm…only when Alfred makes me. Usually I just sit there and wait for him to get us kicked out, so it's not really my idea of a good time."

Right before entering the store, Matthew noticed that Gilbert was no longer beside him. Turning around, Canada found Prussia a few steps back, staring at him in astonishment which slowly morphed into a growing smirk. Matthew felt nervous as the smirk turned into something feral, almost evil. "Oh, Mattie, why didn't you say so?"

Hairs raised on the back of Matthew's neck when he heard the smooth, low tone of Gilbert's voice. _What have I done?_ "Say what, Gil?" Matthew was proud that his voice didn't show the growing concern in his gut.

"I have a proposition for you."

* * *

There was a banging at Roderich's door, causing the Austrian to come out of his daze. He had begun the day by taking care of some business, but the news of the arrival of France and Spain had driven him to distraction. Currently, he was furiously playing Chopin only to come to an abrupt halt at the unharmonious notification of guests' arrival. Stealing his spine, Austria went downstairs to open his own door. He had given the staff vacation time when Gilbert came (it was a clause in their contracts) and had yet to recall them. Roderich told himself that he just wanted to wait until this whole mess with the former nation was resolved, not wanting to admit, even to himself, just how much he fucked up.

Part of it was guilt at his lack of control, part of it was guilt that the basic sentiment behind what he said was true. Roderich was no idiot, however, and knew he should fear what would happen to him if the details of exactly what he said were immediately divulged. So he just told Ludwig that Gilbert had confessed and that he rejected him, but he left out the manner in which he did so. While he didn't think that Ludwig would harm his country or his person, he might be tempted to do so. With someone as powerful as Ludwig, the possibility of a threat was enough to err on the side of caution.

Roderich hadn't expected Gilbert to disappear, however. He expected Ludwig to talk to his brother and for that to be the end of the matter. But with Gilbert gone, more people knew what happened. In all honesty, Roderich was surprised it took Francis and Antonio this long to get to his door. Of course, that could be very well because they don't know exactly what Roderich said. Neither of the men were quite as rational as Ludwig, so it would be a miracle if Roderich went to bed unharmed. The only bright spot in the day was that Scotland was not with them. If Francis and Antonio lacked restraint, Alistair didn't know the meaning of the word, in Roderich's opinion.

Opening his door, Roderich rethought the idea that Francis and Antonio alone was safer. Francis' eyes had a disturbing gleam in them while Antonio's usually cheerful face wore an expression Roderich had not seen since the last time someone threatened Romano with bodily harm. They both gave off an aura of power, even in their slightly wrinkled street clothes. All Roderich could think was, _I am so screwed._

Swallowing silently, Roderich retained his outward composure. "Please, come in."

Francis and Antonio removed their shoes and followed Roderich into the living room that contained the antique silver mirror, their eyes on the Austrian in front of them. Roderich swallowed again. "Would you like some-"

"Let's cut to the chase, Roderich," interrupted Francis. Neither he nor Antonio sat but Austria lowered himself into the closest chair. It was either sit or show knocking knees, at that point.

"We need to know exactly what you said to Gilbert," Antonio continued for the Frenchman and then watched whatever color was left in Austria's face drain away.

"And why do you need to know that," Roderich asked as if he wasn't about to faint from stress.

"Onhonhon, mon ami. It looks like it was quite bad if Roddy here is going to faint on us."

Roderich _hated_ that name. Gilbert had given it to him centuries ago and, while he had moved on to Specs, other nations still used it to piss Austria off. It gave him enough indignation to put some color back in his cheeks. "Don't you dare call me-"

"Well, you no longer look ill," Antonio broke in. _Perhaps we can fix that_. "We need to know how bad it is, how far away Gilbert would feel the need to go in order to get away."

"I still do not see why I-"

"Roderich, at this point you have two options. You tell us what you said or we make you tell us."

Antonio looked causally down at Roderich, his green eyes cold. "You remember the Inquisition, no?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note, the quote above (marked with "'blah, blah'") is from episode 13 of Hetalia World Series and I do NOT own it. That is all.


	6. Chapter 5: Propositions and Hope

Roderich wasn't particularly interested to become intimately acquainted with Spanish Inquisition interrogation techniques, so he prepared himself and told Francis and Antonio what he said. Well, he paraphrased. "In a nutshell, I told him that I was disgusted by his presence, he was below my standards, and I would never love him."

Antonio knew that Roderich had left out a lot of information. He felt himself fall to a quiet place in his mind. Silence roared through his being and it was so peaceful. It was where he retreated to during those dark years when his bosses ordered him to torture and kill innocents. This quiet had saved his sanity as he smiled while his victims begged him for mercy.

Francis noticed the change in his friend and stepped away a little. Francis had done his fair share of atrocities over the centuries, but he had never quite gotten to Antonio's level. It had been centuries since he saw the monster that Antonio kept caged peek out. Pitying the Austrian, he tried to save him. "Roderich, we have never been overly fond of each other, but you really need to tell us _exactly_ what happened. Once Antonio lets himself go, nothing I say or do will be able to stop him until he is satisfied."

"Oh, Francis," Antonio said in a quiet, calm voice that was utterly empty. He sounded like he was talking about the weather. It made Roderich's hair stand on end. "Why did you warn him? It's been so _long_ since I've been able to carry out a decent interrogation. And Roderich won't die as nearly fast as those fragile humans…"

Roderich in that moment knew that the only thing worse than telling these two what happened was _not_ telling them. Austria sighed. "Well, you might as well sit down. This may take a minute. It was about two weeks after Gilbert got here when I noticed how he looked at me when he thought I wasn't looking…"

* * *

"What sort of proposition, Gil?"

"Oh, Mattie, don't sound so suspicious." Gilbert still had not lost his smirk and his eyes almost glowed with his thoughts. Matthew had every reason to be nervous and he knew it. Pursing his lips, Mathew said,

"What's the proposition, Gilbert?"

Gilbert pouted but the gleam in his eyes made it more sensual than it should have been. Matthew fought the impulse to do a head slap for noticing his guest's sex appeal. "It's nothing bad, Mattie. No need to call me by my full name."

Faced with the grown frustration with Gilbert's avoidance and his own attraction to the man, Matthew's snarky side decided to peak its head again. Twice in one hour was a record for Mathew in dealing with anyone other than his brother. "What the hell is the proposition, Beilschmidt?"

Gilbert saw the spark of confrontation in Matthew's eyes and voice, pleased to get a reaction. "It's quite simple, really." Gilbert walked towards the other man until he was just outside of that invisible boundary which separated their personal spaces. "You show me your idea of fun while I'm here and I'll show you mine."

Even in his current mood, Matthew couldn't help but flush as mind immediately went to the more erotic connotation of the words. Further irritated by his flush, Matthew narrowed his eyes. "Give me an example."

"Kesesese, you sound so suspicious, Mattie. It's a simple exchange. You show me the joys of hockey, and I'll show you how to have fun in a club. You can show me your favorite places to ski or just around the city and I can teach you about weapons. Stuff like that." Gilbert leaned forward a little, barely invading Matthew's personal space. "Or are you afraid that my idea of an awesome time is too much for you to handle?"

Matthew was never one to back down from a challenge, but he was no simpleton either. He kept his wits about him, even when he was at his most impulsive. The quiet, polite side of Canada's personality was wary of Gilbert's tone, but saw no obvious harm in getting to know him better through different activities. Thus decided, Matthew took a half step closer to Gilbert so he was in his face. "I agree. Although," Matthew said, turning towards the shopping center entrance, "maybe you're the one who should be concerned. I hope your balance is good."

Gilbert was momentarily stunned by Matthew's closeness and the playfulness of his expression. They were literally _this close_ for that split second, not touching when it would have been more natural to do so. Matthew continued to surprise him and he couldn't wait to see what the next surprise was going to be. Following Matthew into the department store, Gilbert said, "We shall see, Mattie. We shall see."

* * *

"…I never expected him to disappear all together. I just thought that Ludwig would handle it like he always does: efficiently. I didn't think it would go this far…" Roderich trailed off as he finished his narrative. Francis was now sitting on the chaise lounge across from Roderich, his head in his hands. However, it was the Spaniard that concerned Austria. Antonio had only grown more relaxed as the relayed what happened. By the end of it all, he leaned against the arm of the chaise where Francis sat, posture so lax he was nearly lounging. If it weren't for his eyes, Roderich would have been relieved at the at-ease body language. However, Antonio's green eyes had grown impossibly colder, taking on the mesmerizing quality of a snake's right before it struck.

In the silence that followed, Roderich began to panic. Neither Francis nor Antonio moved or showed any further change in reaction. Antonio just continued staring at Roderich, his gaze turning more considering than anything, yet still cold. In a moment of desperation, Roderich began to ramble. "I snapped, okay? After weeks of cleaning up his messes, dealing with those goddamn looks, listening to his incessant cackling and proclamations of awesomeness, I just-"

Francis' head snapped up, his blue eyes wide with astonishment. Antonio seemed to take that as a sign and began to walk out of the room. "Mon ami, where are you going?

"A la cocina." _To the kitchen._

Roderich paled and was startled by Francis' laugh. It sounded…joyous. Of course, this pushed Roderich to the point of fainting as black dots danced around his vision and he reached out to the chair's arm to steady himself. The only thing that kept him in the moment was Francis' voice, "Mon ami, Antonio, that will not be necessary." This earned the Frenchman two looks, one confused but relieved and the other cold as the Russian winter.

Roderich almost asked, "What?" He was cut off by detached Spanish. "¿Por qué?" _Why?_

"Ohonhon, I will explain in the car. You might as well calm down. No need to start an international incident over this."

Antonio closed his eyes and went still for a moment, a look of intense concentration on his face. When Spain looked up again, his eyes had lost the frightening chill, sweat was beaded at his temple and his face finally wore an expression other than polite interest. He looked outraged. "The fuck, Francis? There is every reason to-"

"I will explain in a moment. I assume, Roderich, that you hired ze car for the entire day, non?" At Austria's nod, Francis continued. "Bon, we shall take our leave then."

Antonio trusted Francis' judgment when it came to matters like this, but he wasn't leaving until _something_ was done. Smiling, Antonio walked back into the room and towards Roderich. "Sure, mi amigo. Just let me…" He picked up a tense Roderich with one hand, brutally kneed his groin then dropped the aristocrat unceremoniously on the floor. "… do that. I'm ready."

Francis cringed as the Austrian groaned and fought the urge to cup himself but shrugged. "I was going to slap him but I suppose you did enough for the both of us."

"Your explanation better be good, Francis…"

France and Spain left Austria's house and slammed the door behind them. While he was still confused, Roderich was mostly relieved to have everything still attached to his body. Later, Austria would wonder just how he escaped being at Antonio's mercy but right now the only thing he could think was, _My life, it flashed before my eyes._

* * *

Antonio restrained himself until they exited the gate to the Austrian's home then threw Francis a dirty look. "Why is that hijo de puta not writhing in pain and begging for mercy right now? You know very well that what he said to Gilbert was not only unnecessary but-"

"Did you actually listen to what he said, mon ami?"

"Well, I stopped listening after he said that he told Gilbert he wished he died with the dissolution of his kingdom. I was a little preoccupied with fantasies of his blood painting the walls."

"You know, you can be really scary."

Antonio shrugged. "You know what happens when I let myself go like that."

Indeed, Francis did. Suppressing a shiver, France continued, "If you had not been so preoccupied with your violent fantasies, you would have caught the same zing I did… Or not, considering this is _you_ we are talking about."

"Get to the point, Francis."

"Roderich said that he snapped from having to listen to 'incessant cackling and proclamations of awesomeness.'"

"So? That's what Gilbert does all the time."

"But, Antonio, we both know that is not the real Gilbert."

Antonio thought about it for a moment before his eyes widened. "You mean—"

"Oui, mon ami. I thought that Gilbert had been his true self around Austria all this time. But if he never felt the urge to show that side of himself or could keep up his façade for this long…"

Antonio chuckled to himself. He knew from his relationship with Lovino that, when it came to true love, you couldn't help but be yourself around the other person, no matter how much you wished you could put on a mask. Only someone like Ludwig could hold himself back from love for any length of time and even _he_ had fallen within a matter of years. "Only Gilbert could convince himself to hang on to a crush for centuries and call it love. Does this mean what I think it means?"

"Oui. It is not as bad as we thought. There is still hope."

Antonio's smile faded as he realized something. "While this is all well and good for Gilbert's emotional health in the long run, I doubt that he is feeling 'awesome' now."

Francis sighed."We still need to find him. Based on what Roderich said, I think he would have felt like the world ended again."

"So where do we start looking?"

"All I can say is that he is probably not on the continent anymore."

"Well, shit."

* * *

Gilbert and Matthew had been shopping for a couple of hours. It would have taken less him time if he was alone, but the presence of the still snarky Canadian had turned the quick run for clothes into something interesting. Matthew provided commentary for when he forced Gilbert to try on clothes before he bought them, proving both honest and inventive. It was as they exited a store full of men's casual wear that Gilbert finally cracked.

"Enough! No more shopping. I'm done, I'm done!"

Matthew looked amusedly at Gilbert. "That was fast. If this is an example of your endurance, then I doubt you'll be able to keep up when we actually start doing stuff."

"Mattie, shopping does _not_ count as an activity. It's necessary, not fun. Usually I just go in, grab the first thing I like, buy it and leave. We've been at this for three hours!"

"I remain unconvinced that you will be able to handle my idea of fun. Do you just want to back out now?"

Gilbert threw his hands up. "Mattie, haven't even started. I'm hungry."

"Nice topic change." Matthew's stomach growled loud enough that Gilbert heard it.

"I don't see you objecting. Where's the food court?"

Mathew rolled his eyes. "The other side of the building."

The pair began walking towards the food court. About halfway there, Gilbert's eyes widened excitedly. Matthew followed his gaze and groaned out loud. "Didn't you say you were tired?"

"Yeah, tired of _shopping._ This is completely different."

"Food, Gil. Food."

"But after-"

"Yes."

"Fuck, yeah. Just wait, Mattie. It won't take long for me to erase all doubts from your mind and show you just how awesome I am."

* * *

"Gil, watch out for that-"

"Fuuuck, where the hell did that one come from? Mattie!"

"Gah! Get it off me!"

" _You_ have to get it off you, just keep shooting!"

Gilbert aimed the gun and repeatedly pulled the trigger, scoring the coveted 'perfect' with practiced ease as the zombies' heads exploded. He was working his way towards a high score, despite being surprised by monsters crawling out of the woodwork in the video game. Mattie, however was clearly a new player.

But, then again, Matthew didn't seem good at _any_ of the games they played after entering the arcade after lunch. Not racing, not ski-ball, not even wack-a-mole. Gilbert won every time, but Matthew didn't complain about it. He just went after each game with an untarnished competitive streak that impressed Gilbert. Canada was in the moment, having fun for all he was worth. It moved something in Gilbert, to see someone so completely focused not on winning but on having fun. When Matthew finally died for the last time in the game, Gilbert holstered the plastic gun, no longer interested in playing since Matthew had to stop.

Matthew looked at Gilbert as his friend's character was quickly slashed by zombies, earning gruesome wounds while Prussia did nothing. Biting his lip, Matthew said, "Gil, you don't have to stop playing just because I suck at this."

Gilbert shrugged. "It's not as much fun if I don't play with you. I have to go to the bathroom, anyway. Do you want me to get something for you to drink on the way back?"

"No, thanks." Gilbert nodded and left, completely unaware of the flush overtaking Matthew's face. Matthew was so unused to people just wanting to spend time with him. Alfred would have finished the game, going after the possible high score as another indication of his 'hero' status. Francis would have scoffed at the idea of even entering such a place. Gilbert was…different.

Matthew grabbed the bucket of tickets they had earned (they had the foresight to put the shopping bags in the car before they started playing) and went to go sit down at one of the tables that was not far from the game he just completely failed at, lost in thought. Gilbert played game after game with him, never teasing about how awful he was, nor embarrassing him by going easy on him out of pity. He looked Matthew in the eye when he asked which game he wanted to play next. And when they accidentally bumped against each other in their zeal for whatever game they were playing at the moment, Matthew felt a thrill through his body. Matthew squeezed his eyes shut thinking about it. _God, I must be crazy. I've known the man for 24 hours. No! Not even that-_

Matthew's train of thought was cut off as a teenager sat in his lap, unaware that he was there.

* * *

Gilbert came back from the bar, soda in hand. He went to the zombie game but couldn't find Matthew. School must have just gotten out, because the arcade was suddenly lazy with kids. A little annoyed, Gilbert continued to search; he looked around the arcade to see if Matthew had found another game for them to play. Frowning, Gilbert turned towards the line of tables along one side of the wall and spotted Matthew worrying his lip, seemingly lost in thought about something. Gilbert's frown increased as he wondered what was bothering him, but then became a scowl as some kid sat down in Matthew's lap. Enraged beyond reason, Gilbert stalked forward.

Matthew on the other hand, was used to such things, and tried to politely inform the teenager that there was someone sitting here. "Um, excuse me, but-"

"Get lost, kid."

Teenage boys have more bravado than sense, so the teenager just looked up at an approaching Gilbert and smirked. It probably didn't help that he had a cute girl with him. "Why should I, old man?"

The girl with him, who also had not noticed Mathew when she sat down, looked at Gilbert and knew that they should leave. His eyes, already frightening enough in color, seemed to glow with animosity. He was tall and moved towards him with a feline grace that spoke of a predator. The girl was just as attracted to the man as she was afraid of him. "Michael, I think we should just-"

"You. Are. Sitting. On. My. Friend." Gilbert squeezed out, angry but not wanting to get arrested for child abuse. The kid, Michael, look behind him and finally noticed Matthew. He blushed as he realized he sat on some strangers lap. He stood up quickly, unintentionally bringing himself closer to Gilbert. Embarrassed, he lashed out.

"Get off me you fucking pervert!"

"You're the one that sat on him you insolent little-!"

"Michael, you sat on him. You should apologize."

"Gil! We should just go, okay?"

"But Mattie, he-"

Matthew was embarrassed and just wanted to leave. He wasn't often noticed when he was alone so he was kind of used to getting sat on. However, he didn't like that his utter lack of presence was displayed for his friend to see. He gave Gilbert a look that silenced the man mid-sentence. It was so desolate, so resigned that the gaze stunned Gilbert. "Please, let's just go. I'll wait by the exit, okay?" Without another word, Mathew looked at the ground and left.

Gilbert was torn for a second, hesitating before following Matthew. He wanted to lash out at the kid, but Matthew just looked so sad. So, Gilbert sneered at the teenager and began to turn away when the bucket of tickets to two had earned caught his eye. Snatching bucket, Gilbert headed over to the prize counter, soda forgotten. He remembered seeing something that could take that look from Matthew's eyes.

Matthew had retreated to the entrance and stood to the side, allowing traffic to flow in and out of the arcade which had grown louder as kids played with each other, clearly lacking any sense of their volume levels. He looked at his watch and saw that it was four. He and Gilbert had played for _hours_ but it hadn't felt that long at all. They were having such a good time until that kid sat on him. Gilbert made it easy to forget just how unnoticeable he was to everyone else. The world made it seem like he didn't exist but Gilbert acted like Mathew was all that he could see. The harsh reminder of his unimportance hurt more than he thought it would.

A tear slipped out of his eye, but he quickly wiped it away. He didn't want Gilbert to see him like this, though their budding friendship may be a lost cause anyway. Matthew closed his eyes for a moment at the realization. Who would want to be friends with someone who was invisible?

Gilbert approached Matthew unnoticed. He saw the Canadian wipe away a tear and something inside him broke. He also noticed that no one even glanced Matthew's way, as if he was just part of the furniture. It made him unspeakably angry, but right now Matthew was his priority, not the rest of the assholes who didn't see him. _Their loss,_ Gilbert thought to himself.

Matthew opened his eyes to polar bear in front of his face. It was small and adorable as glassy eyes looked back at him. Pale hands were wrapped around the belly of the toy and Matthew focused on the man they belonged to.

He looked a little uncomfortable, tipping Matthew off that he would be rubbing the back of his neck if his hands weren't otherwise occupied. The sight of this oh-so-masculine man holding out the bear plushy made Matthew smile despite himself.

"Uh, I'm sorry that I almost caused a scene back there. I hope you don't decide to stop being my friend and kick me out of your house for being an unawesome rage monster or something."

Matthew laughed and hugged the offered bear to his chest. All Gilbert could think in that moment was how adorable Matthew was, screw the bear. "Its okay, Gilbert. I'm sorry that I'm so unnoticeable that people sit on me without noticing."

Gilbert frowned at the nonchalance and acceptance in Matthew's voice. "Well, they should notice you. You're fun and beautiful and just all around awesome. It's a crime that people don't see that, don't see you."

_He just said I'm beautiful_. Matthew buried his now red face in the back of his new bear. "Thanks, Gil."

"No problem, Mattie. Just tellin' it like it is. You want to go back to your place? Maybe order in some pizza or, you know, have pancakes again? I'm kind of hungry again and I wouldn't mind eating again." Cough *pancakes* cough.

Mathew laughed. "Sounds like a good idea to me."

* * *

Francis and Antonio landed in Madrid. They had gone over places Gilbert would likely be on the flight over, but they hadn't really gotten anywhere besides ruling out Antarctica and Russia (which is mostly in Asia, mind you). Both were exhausted and more than ready to retire for the night as they made their way through the airport. Lovino was there waiting for them, his usual cheerful self.

"You bastards better be grateful I took the time out of my day to come and pick you up. Such a fucking hassle."

"Lovi, I'm home! Did you miss me?" Antonio enveloped the Italian in a hug, causing the man to turn red.

"Get off me you overly cheerful bastard. You were only gone for one day. And, for the last fucking time, stop calling me Lovi."

Spain pouted, as per their routine. Then he smiled and poked Romano's cheeks. "You're so cute, Lovi. You look just like a tomato!"

Francis didn't know how the two of them managed to keep the same greeting routine for decades, but it was getting old to watch. "Hello, Romano. Thank you for picking us up."

"Yeah, whatever Frenchie. Let's just get in the car so we can see each other less."

"Wait, Lovi, I have to go use the bathroom."

"Bastard, why didn't you just-" but Antonio was gone, in search of the airport restroom. Francis waited until Spain was out of earshot before he spoke again.

"Romano, we need to talk."

"What the hell would you and I _ever_ need to-"

"Drop the attitude for one second, Romano. It's about Spain. I'm worried about him."

Romano looked at Francis, still frowning but with serious eyes. Despite all of his vocal protests to affection, he loved Antonio more than he knew how to deal with. "What happened?"

"I think that this Gilbert zing is getting to him. I don't know if its guilt or something else, but he is a little on edge."

"Just spit it out, bastard. Why would you think that Antonio was-"

"He reverted, Romano. All it took was a second and he was suddenly very serious about enjoying torturing Roderich. He seems fine now but we cannot fix Gilbert if we ourselves are a mess."

Romano sighed but nodded. "I don't understand why you bastards are even looking for that potato bastard. Scotland said he was fine, so what's the issue?"

Antonio was coming back, so Francis said quickly in a low voice, "Just distract him for a few days, will you?" Then, in a more normal tone, Francis answered Lovino's question with flourish, "You would not understand."

"Bastard, who do you-"

"What wouldn't Lovi understand?"

Lovino just puffed up his cheeks and turned red, so Francis answered, "So many things."

"You French fuck-"

Antonio put his hand on Romano's mouth, earning a bite but effectively shutting him up. "Let's just go, sí?"

Antonio had his hands so full with shuffling Romano to car that he did not notice the look of understanding pass between his partner and one of his best friends. Lovino would keep him distracted, Francis knew as he was driven to his hotel (no matter how close he and Antonio were, no one wants to live with Romano besides Spain and Feliciano). They could resume their search in a few days. If Scotland could be believed and his deductions from Roderich's information could be trusted, Gilbert would survive a little while longer without them.


	7. Chapter 6: Rules of Engagement

_Gilbert placed his palms on the glass wall in front of him. A light that came from nowhere illuminated the glass yet left the rest of his surroundings shrouded in darkness. Gilbert didn't know how he got there or what he was doing, but he desperately wanted to get to the other side of the glass. Fear crawled up his throat, choking him as he desperately pushed at the glass. He didn't know what the pushing would do or what was on the other side, but he just felt the need to_ get away _. Light and movement from the other side of the caught his attention and his fear melted into fascination._

 _It was clear from body shapes that the two people making out were men, still clothed in nondescript jeans and t-shirts. The faces were hidden, concealing their identities from Gilbert, but that only made him focus on them harder. Hands roamed and bodily shudders could be discerned, but the faces still eluded him in the silence. One man, with seemingly feminine hands, picked up the other and placed him on a gunmetal table away from Gilbert._ Was that table always there? _Gilbert asked himself. He couldn't remember. But the pre-existence of the table faded in importance as Gilbert was shocked when light finally touched the lovers' faces._

_Roderich pulled back from the man in his arms, seemingly breathing heavy in the chilling silence that surrounded Gilbert. His violet gaze was lustful as he dragged his hands through the honey-haired man in front of him, bringing the other into a kiss. Gilbert didn't feel the jealousy he expected when finding Roderich preoccupied with another. No, he just felt dedicated, gentle loss as he stared at him. The loss felt familiar as it should; it was really the only thing Gilbert felt when he saw Roderich conversing with others for centuries. This was the nature of love as Gilbert had come to know it: aching loss and silent longing. Gilbert touched his fingertips to the glass delicately, reaching out to the man he loved for centuries._

_Roderich, however, continued his erotic onslaught on the yet unknown man on the table. Drawing the other's T-shirt over head, Roderich briefly stared down at his lover, who seemed to duck his head in embarrassment. The gesture struck Gilbert as familiar, yet, as he looked at the expanse of the second man's leanly muscled back, he couldn't place it. Roderich clearly was not overly concerned with his lover's embarrassment as he swept the almost shoulder length hair to one side and began kissing his neck. One by one, red marks appeared on the once pristine skin. Gilbert watched all this dispassionately, accepting Roderich's silent rejection of him for this other man. It wasn't until Roderich's hand on the other's shoulder urged him to lie against the table that Gilbert finally recognized the bashful, almost virginal, lover._

_In his passion, Matthew's eyes were nearly a true purple in a shade unique to him. His cheeks were flushed red and his lips were swollen from sweet abuse. The rapid movement of the curl, still miraculously in front of his lips, betrayed panting breaths that were lost to the silence. The rapid expansion and collapse of Mathew's pale, toned chest confirmed Gilbert's deduction, just as the image of the Austrian licking Matthew's collarbone made all logic impossible. Gilbert's vision went red as he took in Matthew's obvious pleasure. When he spied Roderich's hand trail its way across Matthew's chest to toy with the pink nipple, Gilbert began to bang at the glass in front of him._

_"Get the_ fuck _off him!"_

 _It was as if Gilbert finally using his voice allowed sound to penetrate the glass. Mathew's panting gasps and shaky moans assaulted him as Roderich looked up from a preoccupied Matthew and smirked at the Prussian._ Oh no the fuck he didn't! _Gilbert thought._

_Roderich took in Gilbert's impotent rage and drew his teeth over Matthew's neglected nipple. The Canadian threw his head back in surprise, eyes squeezed shut. "Roderich-!" was all he could manage to say._

_Gilbert turned his head away from the pair, desperately searching the glass for a weakness. A little above his head and to the left, there was a small crack in the barrier. Raising his arm above his head, Gilbert brought his fist down in the center of the crack. It expanded a bit, so Gilbert did it again and again, trying to block out the sounds Roderich coaxed Matthew make. Gilbert's hand was beginning to bleed as he wore down the thick glass. Matthew's eyes came into focus for a second and he looked around warily._

_"Did you hear that?"_

_"It's nothing, darling. Just focus on me."_

_"Okay…"_

_The sound of Roderich kissing Matthew,_ his Mattie _, drove Gilbert insane. Using strength reserved for grandmothers picking up cars off of children, Gilbert hit the crack in the glass one more time, causing a domino effect which cracked the entire thing down the middle. Feeling empowered, Gilbert drew back his arm for one more strike when the clear window to the couple turned into a mirror and Gilbert saw his arm being caught by another. Immediately, the fear the Gilbert felt earlier returned, peppered with the urgency not only to get away but to get to_ Matthew. _What made it worse was that Gilbert immediately recognized his captor and knew why he should be afraid._

_Twin crimson gazes locked in the broken mirror as the captor's left arm quickly locked itself around Gilbert's neck, displaying the red, black, and white armband. The swastika stood out boldly and Gilbert's eyes widened as he saw himself lean towards his ear. This was Gilbert at his least conscientious and most destructive to himself and those around him. He hated and feared himself._

_The slightly younger Prussia smirked at the inadequacies of his prey. "Kesesese, honey, I'm home. Did you miss me?"_

_Gilbert was about to say no, say that he wasn't this anymore, when he was cut off by the arm tightening its hold to crush his windpipe and the sound of Matthew's suddenly louder moans. Prussia laughed in Gilbert's ear._

_"He sounds like fun. Maybe I'll go for a ride, too…"_

_Gil began to struggle violently at that moment, only succeeding in compromising his windpipe more. Still, he managed to wheeze out, "No…mine."_

_Black dots danced around Gilbert's vision as his doppelganger chuckled in his ear. "But I am you."_

_"N-not…true."_

_"How can you protect him," the younger Prussian said malevolently, "if you cannot protect yourself?"_

_The last thing Gilbert heard was Matthew moaning for another before he felt his neck snap then nothing at all._

* * *

Sweat once again coated the Prussian's skin as he jolted awake. _Nein, nein, nein, nein, nein,_ was all Gilbert could think. Groaning, he grabbed his towel and headed to the shower. It helped him shake off that dream yesterday, so it figured that a shower was just what he needed. Not a therapist, but a shower. Definitely not a therapist.

After relieving himself, Gilbert stepped into the warm spay. It relaxed his muscles while it washed away the physical evidence of Gilbert's nightmare. The psychological ones though…

Gilbert put his head in his hands and fought the urge to scream, fearing it would alarm Mathew. _What the hell is wrong with me?_ Gilbert thought. _These dreams will get old really fast._

A couple things really bothered Gilbert about this particular dream. First of all, the fact that his assailant was _himself_ was an issue that Gilbert wouldn't come within 15 meters of a therapist for. Especially since he was his National Socialist self…It's just that it came out of nowhere. Gilbert had come to terms with his and Ludwig's past years ago. It was kind of necessary when living in Ivan's house…for multiple reasons, the first of which being fascism and communism didn't mix well. It wasn't like he could change his past. He wasn't proud of it but it never came up in his every day thoughts.

Second, Gilbert couldn't believe how ready he was to kill Roderich. He swore to himself after the unification of the German Empire that he would never personally harm the man again. It was why he didn't attempt to strike back at Roderich when the man attacked him…earlier in the week? _It's only been that long?_ _Fuuuuck._

Third, when the _hell_ had he began thinking of Matthew as his? It had been a day, literally just over 24 hours. To be sure, those hours were filled with some of the best fun Gilbert had had in years that didn't involve getting arrested. They were also filled with sinfully delicious pancakes, shopping trips, video games, coming to Matthew's rescue, and watching movies. Although if Gilbert was honest with himself, he watched Matthew's reaction to the movie more than the film itself. He couldn't help it, really. Matthew just got so into the movie, he made those endearing little 'eeps' when he was surprised and bit his lip slowly as the tension of the film got to him. If Gilbert was being _really_ honest with himself, he would admit that he wished that the movie had a sex scene in it just to see the Canadian's reaction… and promptly jump him because of it.

 _Fourth_ , when had he started thinking of Matthew in such a sexual way? Matthew was naturally beautiful and utterly adorable whenever he blushed. Okay, his snarky side shows an intriguingly leashed energy that really could set off one's imagination. Matthew's passion flushed faced from the dream flashed through Gilbert's mind and he quickly turned the relaxingly warm spray to freezing temperatures. _One problem taken care of,_ he thought sardonically.

Turning off the water, Gilbert stepped out of the shower with these thoughts racing 'round his head. In the end, it boiled down to Matthew. Gilbert wanted him. Now what?

Matthew was his host, the provider for his sanctuary. He couldn't just jump the man. Hell, Gilbert didn't even know if Matthew _liked_ men! While it was the trend among countries to like men since there were just so many more of them (male countries that is) than female, there were a few notable exceptions. Francis, despite all his actions to the contrary, was bisexual and actually preferred women a bit more. Ludwig is actually Feliciano's exception, not his rule. He didn't flirt with all those pretty girls for nothing!

Gilbert shook his head as he wrapped the towel around his waist and gathered his clothes. It turned out that Hungary was his primary exception. And for most of that time he thought she was a boy. (In Gilbert's defense, she did, too.) Sure, he could have sex with a girl, but it just wasn't the same. It was like something was missing from the equation or…it was hard to describe. He wouldn't hesitate to say he was bi, but he had a pretty strong preference for men.

Gilbert sighed as he began to walk back to his room only to pause in front of Matthew's door. It was suddenly difficult to remember exactly why Matthew wasn't and indeed shouldn't be his. _I mean,_ Gilbert thought to himself, _shouldn't Matthew be able to decide for himself…now?_ If Freud had heard this conversation, he probably would have seen Gilbert's id on a rampage…let's just say there is more than one reason that Gilbert avoided therapists.

Prussia dumped his pajamas on the floor and opened Matthew's door with the full intention of getting Matthew to declare himself Gilbert's or not only to be stopped in tracks by two things: the time and the sight of Mathew.

Intellectually, Gilbert realized that it was early; he knew that the sun had not yet risen. He just didn't realize that it was 2:47 A.M. as the clock hanging on Matthew's closet reflected light back from the moon. Gilbert knew the being awakened at 3 A.M. was not the most pleasant thing and while he appreciated Matthew's snippy side, he didn't want to truly see the man irritated.

Matthew looked like an angel. His skin seemed as pale as Gilbert's in the moonlight, his hair looked like spun electrum. His face was peaceful with lips slightly parted and pale pink. Matthew was all tucked in under the blankets. The small stuffed bear that Gilbert had given him the day before was only identifiable from the top of the furry head under Matthew's chin. Gilbert was correct in assuming that his host had snuggled with the bear when he went to sleep. It was so adorable that it stopped Gilbert for a moment and he could only stare.

Gilbert didn't know how long he just stood in the doorway, looking at the Canadian he had subconsciously claimed as his. He wanted Matthew to be like the bear: wrapped in Gilbert's arms while he slept. He wanted Matthew to look at him every morning with a smile on his face, relaxed after a night of love making. He wanted to know what made him tick. Prussia didn't think that he was good enough for Canada, but that didn't change things. Gilbert wanted Matthew to be his.

While Gilbert didn't know how long he stayed, he would always remember the word that made him leave.

_Rebound._

Could it be possible that Gilbert was transferring his feelings for Roderich to Matthew? What he felt for Roderich felt worlds away for what he felt for Matthew. Maybe he felt that way about the Austrian long ago, but if he did he no longer remembered it. Gilbert didn't want to use Matthew just to get over Roderich. After just one day, Prussia had more respect for Canada than that. He wasn't sure if these feelings were real or if they were just another way the Austrian had managed to fuck him over.

Gilbert left Matthew's room and closed the door behind him. Gathering his clothes off the floor Gilbert fled to his room. Closing the door, Gilbert leaned against it. He had no idea what to do. He _felt_ these things for Matthew and after one full day with the man he was ready to accost him in his sleep. _Rules_ , he thought. _I need rules_.

Gilbert and his friends were notorious for breaking rules/laws, but those were set by other people to limit them. Gilbert followed his self-imposed rules the way he would never follow any other set. It gave him a skewed sense of justice that would fall in the legal grey/black area in many countries, but it served him well over the centuries.

Gilbert threw on some jeans then grabbed his journal. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Gilbert got down to work. A couple of them were easy to come up with, but others… well it took him about an hour to get the list completed. This is what the entry ended up looking like:

**Awesome Journal,**

**Today I woke up from a completely unawesome dream. I'm not going to get into it much but it involved Specs and Mattie and unawesome Nazi me killing current awesome me.**

**It made me realize that I might have some… feelings for Mattie. But I don't want him to be a rebound! So I decided that I would make myself some awesome rules so that I don't accidentally force myself on him or take advantage of him because Mattie is too awesome for that.**

**1\. Don't stare at Mattie when he's asleep. No matter how beautiful he looks, it's creepy and unawesome.**

**2\. Don't think about him in the shower. If it happens turn on the cold water.**

**3\. Got a stiffy thinking of Mattie? Take care of it with a shower, not your hand! See 2.**

**4\. Don't proposition him for sex. Ever. He might say yes.**

**5\. Don't think about how he is just as amazing as his pancakes.**

**6\. Don't think about if he tastes as amazing as his pancakes. See 3.**

**7\. Don't admire his spirit and personality beyond friendship. No matter how awesome they are.**

**8\. Don't lie to him, but refrain from mentioning just how sexy and beautiful and perfect you think he is. Also don't tell him about the feelings that made you make this list.**

**9\. Always stay at least 15 centimeters away from him. For your safety and his.**

**10\. IMPORTANT! Remember that no matter how much you wish otherwise, Mattie is not yours! You have no grounds to be jealous if he talks to others or kisses others or-**

**Well, this is obviously in progress! It's lights out time!**

**Awesome Me**

Gilbert finished his entry, still a little worked up from writing that last rule. It surprised him just how transparent his feelings were looking at the list. And after one fucking day, too! _Way to articulate emotional fails, Gilbert._

He closed the journal and replaced in the dresser drawer. He was a little depressed from all the 'don'ts' of the list. Prussia would have changed it but his body reminded him of the little sleep he had the day before. Without bothering to take off his jeans, Gilbert splayed out on top of the comforter. He grabbed the throw blanket to cover his bare chest and fell into a, thankfully, dreamless sleep.


	8. Chapter 7: Resolution

Matthew's alarm clock went off at a more decent hour than the day before, but was no less annoying. He glared at the offending object (his phone) before turning off the sound and begrudgingly getting out of bed. Matthew tried to make it a habit to start his day early, for some reason he could never shake off the desire to just hit the snooze button a few dozen times…or so. Granted, some (ehem, Ludwig) would say that eight in the morning _was_ sleeping in, but they could kiss Matthew's ass. Matthew dragged his feet to the bathroom, sluggishly moving his heavy limbs as he opened the door and moved to relieve himself. _Why am I so tired?_ He thought.

Turning on the water for his morning shower, Matthew was startled by the dampness of the thick towel in front of the tub. _Gilbert must have showered already… Shit! I'd better get a move on. He's probably hungry and…_

Matthew snapped to attention and hurried through his shower. He couldn't leave his guest wanting! Although they had grown closer over the past day, Matthew could not shake his obligatory feelings towards the man. While Matthew was happy to have a friend, nothing else had changed.

And they _were_ friends, Matthew supposed. Having never really had one, he wasn't quite sure. From the shows, books and movies that kept him somewhat entertained over the years, friends were people that spent quality time together periodically and enjoyed each other's company. Good friends were honest and comfortable enough to know just how to tease the other without offending. Best friends knew and cared about each other. _So that makes us good friends, right? I mean, clearly it's too early to be called each other's best friend especially since Gilbert has other friends whom he has known for years. Actually, isn't it a little early to be good friends?_ Matthew shook his head as he brushed his teeth, confused and becoming frustrated. _I'm over thinking this._

Matthew hurried to throw on some clothes, putting on the first pair of jeans he touched and a sweatshirt. After running a comb through his hair ( _I really should be getting a haircut soon_ ), Matthew hurried down the stairs and looked around for Gilbert. Not seeing the albino, Matthew sighed in relief and began breakfast, figuring that Gilbert was still getting dressed. The towel in the bathroom was pretty soaked still and Matthew did fly through getting ready…

Pleased with himself, Matthew started on the pancakes. Gilbert was not exactly subtle in his disappointment last night when Mathew showed him the menu for his favorite Chinese takeout restaurant in lieu of starting on pancakes. Matthew started lecturing him on a balanced diet in a voice he usually reserved for talking to small children and Gilbert just laughed. Remembering the incident, Matthew took out a box of strawberries along with the eggs. No need to become a hypocrite.

* * *

Matthew bit his lip and glanced at the stairs as he placed the last pancake on top of a large stack of them. He had already cut up the strawberries and pulled out the whipped cream, so breakfast was ready. Hell, even the table was set. Matthew was certain that his house now smelled of pancakes and was a little concerned for Gilbert. He hadn't heard movement from upstairs yet that towel was so wet… could he still be sleeping? Matthew knew that Gilbert would not want to miss his pancakes for anything so, if he was sleeping, should Matthew wake him up? Usually he would just let his guest sleep but if Gilbert's reaction yesterday was anything to go on he would prefer to be awakened…

Going with his gut, Matthew headed for the stairs. He hesitated before knocking softly on Gilbert's door. "Gil, are you up? Can I come in?"

There was no answer. Taking a deep breath, Matthew opened the door slowly. "Gil?"

Gilbert was lying across the bed horizontally, his bare feet hanging off the side. He was partially on his side with his arms reaching towards the pillows. The dark wash jeans and mop of silver hair spoke of a carelessness that Matthew was beginning to recognize in the man. The throw blanket was only half covering his back, revealing white skin dotted with scars long healed. Matthew could tell which wounds were from punctures and which were from cuts. Some were wide enough that the weapon could have been a sword or any number of things. The fact that the injuries even left a mark on him spoke of their severity. (It took a lot to scar a nation since they healed so fast.) The fact that there were so many spoke of a strength that Matthew didn't know existed. From what Matthew had seen, Gilbert was fun, kind and had almost a child-like energy to him. To still hold those aspects after having such hardships painted on one's body… Matthew couldn't describe it.

With new found respect for the former nation, Matthew tried to wake him again. "Gilbert, come on." Having lived with Francis as a child, Mathew knew it was not always a bright idea to touch someone sleeping to wake them. It could lead to some…uncomfortable situations. Keeping this in mind Matthew walked over to the still sleeping Gilbert and threw a pillow at him.

The instant the pillow touched him, Gilbert sat up, alert, with wild eyes. To see such an utterly animalistic, feral look in Gilbert's red eyes was frightening and Matthew couldn't help but take a step back. Gilbert, now becoming aware of Mathew, registered the step back and a sad look filled his eyes. "Mattie?"

Matthew was instantly ashamed of his fear and took back the step that he gave up, providing a soft reassuring smile to his guest and newfound friend. "Breakfast is ready. I just thought you would like to know since the pancakes are getting cold and-"

Gilbert hopped out of bed, picked up a shirt from the floor and ran out of the room without another word. He didn't have time to see Mathew's face turn red. Matthew, bless him, was stunned for a moment as his emotions went from shame to attraction in the blink of an eye. Gilbert wasn't built with muscles on muscles like Ludwig, but no one could deny that the man was in shape. Fanning himself, Matthew left the room, determined to get some breakfast before Gilbert ate it all. In the back of his mind, he filed away the image of a shirtless Gilbert, with that painful looking mound of tissue over his heart, washboard abs and all. Heading downstairs, Matthew couldn't help but think that his guest was the sexiest man alive.

* * *

Gilbert sat back in his chair, his once overly full plate empty with only specks of whipped cream here and there. "Thanks for breakfast, Mattie. It was delicious."

Matthew swallowed his last bite of strawberry and looked wryly over to Gilbert. "I had a feeling you would like it. Did you like my inclusion of strawberries? You know, for the balanced effect?"

Gilbert thought _, All I could think about when I saw that bottle of whipped cream was to cover you in it then slowly lick it off_. What he said was, "Kesese, you're oh, so funny, Mattie." Gilbert picked up their plates and put them in the sink. Matthew hopped up to help him clear the table when Gilbert lifted a hand. "We talked about this yesterday, Mattie. You cooked, so I'll clean up." _If West were here, he would be asking Mattie to share his secret sorcery. Okay, I don't know how exactly_ to clean _but he has me doing it voluntarily. Now I know I'm a goner._

Mathew frowned. "But-"

"No."

Matthew narrowed his eyes. "Did you just tell me no in my own house?"

"Yes."

Mental face palm. "You are not going to keep me from helping you." To prove his point, Matthew made a move to get up, only to have Gilbert's hands on his shoulders, forcing him off balance and falling back into his chair. Then, Gilbert snatched his hands back like he had been burned. _Eh?_ Matthew thought.

Gilbert quickly made a move to cover his obvious retreat. "Sorry, Mattie, I didn't mean to push you. I just want you to relax a bit. I feel like I'm not being a very good guest. So can you please just let awesome me clean up?" Then, to top it off, Gilbert pulled a trick that he learned from Antonio and Feliciano. He pouted, wide eyes and all.

Distracted from the strange action, Matthew laughed at the even stranger sight. "Oh, God, stop. Stop."

Happy to see the Canadian laughing, Gilbert stuck his bottom lip out even further and made his eyes widen painfully. "Stop what?"

Clutching his sides at the hilarity of it all, Matthew shooed Gilbert away. "God, you win, you win. Just don't make that face anymore. You looked like a demon escaped from the looney bin that had their favorite toy taken away. It's too freakishly adorable to handle."

Gilbert paused at the 'freakish' thing, but the fact that it was followed by adorable allowed him to be pleased with his victory. Unfortunately, he never really learned to leave well enough alone. Returning to his trademark smirk, Gilbert said, "But Mattie, it worked so well."

"You need to learn to quit while you're ahead." Mathew stood up and walked past Gilbert who jumped out of his way.

"But you said-"

"I was going to relax until that last remark. Now, we are going to compromise. I'll do half the cleaning so that way it goes faster."

"No way. I do all the cleaning."

"If that's the case I'll do most of the cleaning and you just put away the clean dishes."

"What!"

"Or, since you don't really know where all the dishes are yet, I could just do all of it. That really might work since I noticed yesterday that you really don't know how to clean…"

"Half, I'll take half!"

Matthew smiled sweetly at Gilbert. "Nice doing business with you."

* * *

Something was wrong.

Every time Matthew got within 15 centimeters of Gilbert, the other man would find excuses to be on the other side of the kitchen. God forbid if he accentually touched him. When they brushed hands when Gilbert handed him a newly clean plate, Matthew thought Gilbert had seen a ghost or something. The one time they almost bodily bumped into each other, Matthew thought that Gilbert somehow gained the ability to apparate (yes, Matthew had read Harry Potter), he got away so fast.

Normally, Matthew would accept Gilbert's behavior and just retreat to his inner shell, falling back on practiced niceties to guide him. But this situation was different. Gilbert was his chance to finally, _finally_ end his solitude. Matthew was so _sick_ of not being noticed, of being forgotten, of being alone. Gilbert, out of the blue, decided to visit him and Matthew had thought everything was going well. He thought that he finally had found a friend. Matthew knew an opportunity when he saw one and damned if he was going to let this one slip away. He didn't want his friendship to start with secrets and beating around the bush. Taking a chance, Mathew let go of his learned behavior of polite indifference and let himself be heard.

"Talk to me, Gilbert."

Gilbert stilled at the tone of Matthew's voice. It wasn't the quiet one he was used to. No, compared with the Canadian's normal volume, he was damn near shouting. Of course, it was about the volume of Ludwig's normal speaking voice but that wasn't the point.

"Mattie, what's wrong?"

"Other than the fact that you are treating me like I have the plague? No, nothing at all is wrong."

Gilbert flinched. "Can we not bring up the plague? It's not good memory."

Matthew blew out a sigh, his temper cooling a little as his mind automatically saw it from Gilbert's point of view. Of course Prussia was old enough to remember the Black Death, even if he went by a different name back then. Matthew continued, but in his normal quiet tone. "Sorry about that. But it doesn't change the fact that what I said is true. Why are you avoiding me?" Matthew's quiet nature again completely took over the Canadian as he lowered his eyes to the ground, embarrassed that he pushed the issue. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked. I just-"

"No, Mattie, no. You have a right to know. It's just something has been bothering me and-" Gilbert cut himself off. How had things gone sideways so fast? He was trying to follow his rules, he really was. Gilbert didn't realize that he was being so fucking obvious. While he was doing his best not to molest the poor man, Matthew thought Gilbert hated him or something along those lines. _I didn't think that I would need to amend my rules so quickly, but obviously number nine is out._

Sitting down at the table, Gilbert put his head in his hands, struggling to explain to Matthew without just outright confessing his feelings to him. Gilbert didn't even know what this was. Was it infatuation? Effects from Roderich utterly crushing his heart? Gilbert didn't know what he felt and definitely couldn't tell Matthew. He grasped at explanations that told the truth without telling the whole story. Words were never his strong suit.

Meanwhile, Matthew waited for the explanation. He could clearly see Gilbert searching for the right words to say. If it were any other time, Mathew would let it go and quietly wonder about the cause of the change. But he felt like he needed to make this stand now and set a precedent that they could follow as friends. It was difficult but he wanted their friendship to not be full of awkward avoidances and tension raising secrets. So Matthew waited.

Gilbert finally looked up at Matthew who was still standing by the isle, not having moved since he asked, no demanded, Gilbert to talk to him. Normally, Gilbert would tell whoever it was to shove their demands up their ass (he really didn't like talking), but this time he was in the wrong. And it was Matthew. Taking in a deep breath, Gilbert began talking.

"First off, I would like to apologize for making you feel that way. It was totally unawesome and not at all a reflection of how I feel about you. Uh, what I mean is- fuck, I'm really not good at talking." Gilbert rubbed the back of his neck and looked away from Matthew.

Reassured that he was not the problem here, Matthew relaxed a little. But Gilbert was not off the hook yet. "Go on."

Gilbert cringed but continued. "Well, you see, you're different from all my other friends. I've known them longer and we are kind of the… bad boys or misfits, if you will, of the Europe. Well, except for Turkey. I have to avoid him out of respect for Tony but that's not what I am trying to say! You are clearly not that type of guy-which is just awesome by the way- but I don't know how to treat you. You're just so different from them, which I already said. And then I had another dream last night and-" Gilbert looked away, blushing. "Let's just say it compounded the issue."

Matthew frowned a bit, slightly confused but grasping for a deeper meaning. "So, you are neither disgusted by me nor hate me?"

Gilbert widened his eyes and shook his head frantically. "Hell no, Mattie! I think you're as awesome as your pancakes, if not better." A shocked looked came over Gilbert's face and was quickly followed by resignation. _There went rule number five. At this rate I'll be propositioning him by noon._

Gilbert's reactions only confused Matthew more but he shook his head and decided to let it go for now, relieved that his friendship with this strange man wasn't over before it started. The fact that Gilbert didn't hate him was all he really needed to know. Matthew chuckled, breaking the tension. "Well, based on your actions these past two mornings, that's pretty fucking awesome."

Gilbert caught the change in the atmosphere and ran with it, relieved to stop the serious talking. Gasping in shock, Gilbert put his hand over his heart. "Mattie cursed! It's a sign of the apocalypse!"

Kumajiro chose that moment to enter through the back door with Gilbird on his head. As if to confirm Gilbert's proclamation, he roared at the man. Again.

Gilbert was behind Matthew again, his hands on the Canadian's shoulders as he ducked his head behind Mathew's back. This clearly showed that his aversion to the Canadian's proximity was all but gone. Matthew let out a full blown laugh as he patted Gilbert's hand.

"How did he get in here?!"

Laughter still evident in his voice, Matthew answered, "There a pad by the door that recognizes Kuma's footprint and weight and opens the door automatically for him. There's one on the inside of the house for his nose to press." Matthew pointed to the door where Gilbert saw a discrete little square about the size of his fist by the doorknob on the wall. "This way I don't have to let him in or out. He does it himself!"

"Well, why did he roar at me?"

"He probably knew that you made me upset. He has a way of knowing if I'm distressed."

Maple Leaf chose that moment to pad into the kitchen from the living room. She walked right over to Mathew who automatically picked up the adorable little bundle of fur. She looked at him and asked, "Who are you?"

"I'm Canada. I feed you."

"I'm hungry."

Mathew sighed and moved to prepare Maple Leaf's and Kumajiro's meal. Gilbert eyed Kumajiro warily then said, "You have some strange pets."

Gilbird flew into Gilbert's hair, nested for a bit then chirped, as if in agreement with Gilbert. Mathew looked back at Prussia as he pulled out the fish. "Like you're one to talk."


	9. Chapter 8: Developments

"Hey, Gil?"

Gilbert looked up from the book he was reading. It was _The Picture of Dorian Gray_ , his all time favorite English book. He understood Dorian's fall all too well and the magic of the painting appealed to him. "What's up, Mattie? You all done?"

The Canadian had been called by his bosses right after feeding Kumajiro with something that needed to be done. Apparently, Matthew worked so hard all the time that the government was struggling to pick up the slack even with two replacements. Matthew told the man on the other line that he would be happy to help in his usual tone, but Gilbert caught the flash of annoyance in the Canadian's eyes. It disappeared so fast that if Gilbert had blinked, he would have missed it, but he didn't. Gilbert didn't know how he felt about Matthew being able to bury his feelings so well. The skill takes practice. A lot of practice.

But Gilbert didn't call him on it. He just asked if he could read one of Matthew's books, determined not to worry the Canadian about entertaining him. So they settled in the office, with Gilbert, sprawled across the floor on the area rug, reading his book and Matthew working diligently at his desk.

"Yes, I just finished," Matthew answered. It was about noon now. Gilbert wondered what the government couldn't handle with two replacements yet took Matthew three hours. Maybe stuff just needed his signature? "I forgot I had to tell you something about the game we're going to tonight."

Gilbert's previously relaxed face morphed into a now familiar smirk. "Ah, yes. The first of our activities. What did you want to tell me about it?"

Matthew narrowed his eyes slightly at Gilbert's expression, but shrugged it off mentally after a moment. He was coming to understand that it was just a quirk of Prussia's. "Well, the professional hockey league, the National Hockey League, is currently in the middle of another lock-out. So I got us tickets to a local hockey game."

"That's cool. What time is the game?"

"It's at 6:30. You should also know a little bit about the league that is the sponsor of the game."

Gilbert looked at Matthew expectantly. "Okay, I'm listening."

Matthew sighed and rubbed his eyes. "It's called the APH and it promotes year round hockey play for all ages. The game I managed to buy tickets for is the seasonal championship for those of the later age group. These are men who might have played in college or just played recreationally throughout their lives."

Gilbert nodded. "It sounds awesome to me. What's the problem?"

"I usually avoid games like this because these men are in the middle of their lives and feel like they have something to prove. More fights break out and more rules are violated as they jostle for the puck. When the league first started a few decades ago, the number of penalties called made the game less interesting to watch. I go to games to watch hockey, not to see some egotistical battle, you know? But now, the APH has concentrated its best referees in the lower age groups, leaving this one to almost fend for itself. I tried to talk to the owner of the league about it, but he just said that these men should know better by now and the kids need limits the most. So, the point I'm trying to get at is that the hockey you will see tonight is not what I call fun, but it will give you a basic understanding of the game."

"Mattie, if you really don't like those kinds of games, we could always go to another one."

Matthew sent Gilbert a glare. "No way. No matter how much the conduct of the older players bothers me, the fact that you have yet to see a live and in-person hockey game is just that much more annoying. I find it hard to believe you've lived as long as you have without experiencing hockey. It's a crime."

Gilbert propped himself up on his elbows to give Matthew an 'I surrender' gesture. "My bad. But you do know that it is not the first crime I've committed, right?"

Matthew rolled his eyes. "I figured. You're friends with Francis and Alistair. Knowing you, you've broken more laws with them than I can recite off the top of my head, which is quite a few."

"Kesesese, you're probably right. But I don't regret it. Some of the best fun I have ever had led to me getting arrested."

"Why does that not surprise me?"

"Don't knock it until you've tried it, Mattie. Or have you tried it?"

Matthew looked at Gilbert, slightly annoyed. "I know that as a rule I am very polite, but my citizens have a history of civil disobedience. Sure, it's nowhere near as extensive as Alfred's population, but it exists. Several of the more recent riots were over hockey."

In one fluid movement, Gilbert rose to his feet and walked over to the desk. Leaning over, Gilbert said, "That wasn't what I asked and you know it. Have you, Matthew Williams, even been personally arrested?"

Matthew looked down, blushing slightly. He hesitated and Gilbert knew the answer before Matthew replied in a (very) quiet voice. "No, I have never personally been arrested. It's not exactly something I aspire to…"

"Getting arrested is not the fun part, Mattie, although I will admit to some wild times while locked up. No," Prussia tilted his head and looked at Matthew until the other raised his eyes, "it's the activities that get you in jail that is the source of fun. The fact that what you are doing is forbidden or taboo gives a thrill that gets coupled with the possibility of getting caught makes breaking the law so much fun. Actually, I'm a little surprised that you, with your awesome hobby of extreme sports, haven't wanted to walk the edge of legality before."

Matthew knew that a challenge was being thrown quite literally in his face, but he was distracted by Gilbert's steady gaze from mere centimeters away. The red of his eyes were mesmerizing, making getting arrested with this man sound like the best thing in the world. It wasn't like there would be any consequences for him, Matthew thought, reasoning this out. What would the government do, jail the personification of their own country? And if it was as much fun getting there as Gilbert said it would be… Matthew thought all this while slowly leaning in to Gilbert, his eyes dropping to the other man's mouth without any active thought on Matthew's part. _Yeah, the forbidden never sounded so good…_

The ringing of the telephone startled Matthew, forcing a small 'eep' out of him as he cleared his mind of the joys of delinquency. It also got Matthew away from Gilbert, who similarly stepped away from the desk. They both flushed as Matthew turned to answer the telephone next to his computer and Gilbert busied himself with picking up the book. While Matthew talked to his bosses about the work he had just finished, Gilbert frantically tried to figure out what just happened. He didn't break any of his rules (that he hadn't already thrown out earlier that day), yet he was about two seconds away from jumping the other man. And the worse part about it was that Matthew looked all too willing to be jumped.

How did it even get to that point? One minute they were talking about hockey games and the next Gilbert was leaning across Matthew's antique desk, ready to kiss the man senseless. _I need to revise my rules, because this isn't working._

Matthew got off the phone as Gilbert, who had been staring at the book in his hands without really seeing it for several moments, put Wilde's classic on the corner of Matthew's desk. Determined to act like nothing out of the ordinary just happened, Gilbert rushed to say something first.

He raised his eyebrow and said, "That was fast."

Matthew blew out a sigh and ran a hand through this hair. "My boss just wanted to thank me for my hard work during my first vacation in years. Do you want some lunch? We've been up here a while…"

"Lunch sounds awesome."

Getting up from his comfortable office chair, Matthew walked around his desk, only to stop at the corner where Gilbert was standing to look quizzically at the other man. "What's wrong, Gil?"

_I want to kiss you_ , he thought. Quirking his lips up into a softened version of his trademark smirk, Gilbert said, "I think I just thought of something even better than Mattie to call you."

Huffing quietly, Matthew continued towards the door. "Do I want to know?"

Following at Canada's heels, Prussia laughed. "I give all my friends nicknames."

Matthew couldn't help but smile at the sound of being Gilbert's friend, ignoring whatever just happened moments ago. It was a good thing that Matthew was leading the way to the kitchen, otherwise his smile would have been seen and embarrassment would have followed. As it was, Matthew downright grinned, but he kept a reluctant tone in his voice as he responded. "Well, what is it, Gil?"

"Birdie."

Matthew abruptly stopped and turned around, causing Gilbert to run into him. The both struggled for balance for a moment, but eventually stabilized with Gilbert griping Matthew's biceps. "Sorry, Gil, but what? Why Birdie?"

Gilbert released Matthew and stepped back from the Canadian. "Well, you keep making these cute little 'eep' sounds. It was either going to be 'Monkey' or 'Birdie' and since birds are the most awesome kind of animal, I decided on Birdie."

Matthew flushed and opened his mouth to protest but decided against it. "I would protest but, considering what you said, it could be worse. Just, if people ask, don't tell them why that name. I'm embarrassed enough as it is about my tendency to make that sound. So let's just keep this between us, eh?"

"Awesome. Now, what's for lunch?"

* * *

Matthew and Gilbert walked through the entrance to the ice rink. The rink was part of a public recreation complex which, according to Matthew, also contained a swimming pool and tennis courts. They were housed in a separate building, much to Gilbert's relief. The smell of chlorine made his left eye twitch.

Matthew was a little apprehensive. While the conduct of the players was one reason why he disliked coming to these games, his intense reaction to them was also bothersome. He tended to get annoyed at the referees when they didn't call a clear penalty. Matthew knew that Gilbert didn't mind it when he lost his composure, but he didn't want to get into an altercation over hockey tonight.

Gilbert, meanwhile, was focused on staying awake. The jet lag, while not as severe as it would have been in a human, hit him hard. It probably didn't help that he was unable to get a good night's rest the past two nights. If it were like last night, he would have just pled exhaustion and went to sleep early. But it was clear that hockey was really important to Matthew and he didn't want to not understand something so vital to the other. Despite what Matthew said earlier about this particular game, when he went over some basic hockey rules with Gilbert in the afternoon, Gilbert could tell that the Canadian was a little excited to go to a game. It would be supremely unawesome if Gilbert couldn't stay awake for this.

"Mr. Williams!"

Matthew turned to see a stout man approaching him. Matthew immediately recognized the bright brown eyes and round face of the man coming closer. Smiling, he opened his arms to welcome the man to a hug. "I told you that you could call me Matthew. How are you, Rudy?"

Gilbert narrowed his eyes at the man embracing his friend. He then immediately covered his emotions with his egotistical mask, customary smirk in place. It felt strange to have to specifically think about showing this side of himself. Surely two days had not put him completely out of practice.

Matthew pulled back from Rudy, a pleasant smile still on his face. "It's been so long! How are Alyssa and the kids?"

Rudy laughed a deep, rumbling laugh. "They are fine, we all are. Rebecca just started medical school and Kim's a second year at the University of Toronto."

"Wow, that's great. I can't believe that they grew up so fast!"

"Don't all kids? But enough about me and mine. How have you been, Mr. Williams? I was surprised to receive your call about tickets for this game. I know that you disagree with how they are run."

"I planned to take my friend here to a local hockey game when I knew he was coming into town and this was the only game for another week. And imagine my surprise when he told me he had never been to a game! Rudy, this is Gilbert Beilschmidt, my friend. Gilbert this is Rudy Johnson, the co-chair of the APH. I've known him for… a very long time."

Gilbert took Rudy's offered hand. "It's good to see Mr. Williams with friends." In a lower voice he added, "I've known him since I was a kid and he's always been by himself. I'm glad that's not the case anymore."

Releasing the other's hand, Gilbert dropped his mask, feeling comfortable enough to say, "Nice to meet you. I promise, as long as he lets me stay, Birdie won't be alone anymore."

Rudy raised his eyebrows. "Birdie?"

Matthew's face was instantly red and he coughed into his hand. "So! Do you have the tickets?"

With a wry grin, Rudy gave Matthew the tickets that he paid for despite the insistence of Rudy that they would be free. "Here you go, Mr. Williams. I have some work to do, but please enjoy the game."

"See you, Rudy. Please say hello for me to Alyssa and the girls."

"Will do, Mr. Williams. Will do." With that, Rudy left the two alone in the increasingly crowded lobby.

Before retreating down the hallway to his office, Rudy Johnson looked back the red-faced man who had barely changed since his childhood and his companion who stared at the other like he was the only one in the room. _Maybe there's hope for Mr. Williams, yet. Just wait until I tell Alyssa about this one…_

* * *

"You okay, Birdie? You look a little feverish."

Matthew huffed out a breath, making the wayward curl in front of his face fly up for a second. "I'm fine, just a little embarrassed."

Gilbert frowned. "If the name makes you that uncomfortable, I could just call you Birdie when we're alone."

Matthew knew that would be easier for him, but recognized that the moniker was a sign that they were friends and wasn't sure that he wanted to give up the little reminder when they were out doing something. "It's fine, Gil. It will just take some getting used to. Now, come on, let's go find our seats."

Gilbert followed Matthew through the lobby, quietly pleased that he could still call Matthew Birdie. It would be clear to anyone that hears him that he was close to Matthew and if it made them think that there was something more than friendship between the nations, so be it.

After showing their tickets at the door, Matthew had an increasingly difficult time moving anywhere. The room was crowded and he always let people moving in front of him go first. Keenly aware of his lack of presence, he did not wish to be mowed down by people rushing to get snacks or find a seat before the game started.

Gilbert was starting to see a pattern. Matthew would jump out of the way of someone rushing past that didn't appear to notice him. People went out of their way to move around Gilbert as his face changed from a smirk to a scowl. After about two minutes, Gilbert's patience was blown.

Gilbert put his arm around Matthew's shoulder and glared at the person who was about to walk into Matthew. The young man, now able to see what almost happened, backed up with his hands raised, clearly conveying the universal _Dude, no harm, no foul._ Finally, the pair was able to move through the crowd at a steady pace.

"Gil-"

"Yes, Birdie?" Gilbert lost his scowl for moment to quirk an eyebrow at the Canadian.

Matthew was going to ask about the arm around his shoulders, but they were moving somewhere. Giving a sigh full of resignation, Matthew looped his arm around Gilbert's waist and said, "You're going the wrong way."

* * *

"Oh, _come on_ , refs! A damn newborn would be able to see that was charging! If you're not going to call offsides at _least_ call that!"

Gilbert knew what Matthew was talking about when he said those terms, but he was so busy trying to keep up with the puck that he really didn't see the actions that enraged his friend. Of course, Matthew being irritated was also something to see. The usually sedate Canadian was red faced with puffy cheeks and waving arms. His voice was actually audible; a sure sign that shit hit the fan. Gilbert glanced at the time clock. They were only five minutes into the first period. _We'll be lucky if my quiet Canadian doesn't start a riot before we leave. Well, not_ my _Canadian but fuck._

The possibility of a riot was starting to look more and more probable as Gilbert looked back at the crowd behind then. Their tickets placed them next to the glass, so Gilbert was able to see everyone. People were starting to become just as irate as Matthew. They were much more audible about it, of course, but no less angry. Gilbert liked making trouble, but riots weren't his idea of a good time. They were destructive chaos, not fun that just went outside society's parameters. The crowd behind him was beginning to have the looks of a mob and that was concerning.

What struck Gilbert as odd was how a couple people in the stands would shout something then look confused as to why they shouted it. Gilbert looked to Matthew and back to one woman who seemed to jump between rage and confusion. _Mein Gott, what if…_

"Birdie." No answer. "Mattie." Still nothing. "Matthew Williams!" Grabbing Matthew's shoulders, he forcibly turned the other around to look at him. Matthew's eyes were nearly purple and his face was flushed in a disturbingly familiar way. Unfortunately, it wasn't an amorous passion that made him look like this. No, it was an increasingly violent one.

"What!" Matthew snapped at Gilbert, although immediately afterwards his eyes widened. "I'm sorry Gil. What is it?"

Gilbert immediately noticed a decrease in volume from the people behind him. _Fuck, it looks like I'm right._ "We need to leave, Birdie. Right now."

"But the game just-"

Gilbert placed a fingertip on Matthew's lips to silence him. Matthew's eyes widened further. "Do you trust me?"

Matthew looked at the seriousness of Gilbert's face and seemed to consider his answer for a moment. _Can I trust him? I've known him for only two days but I_ feel _like I can trust him. And, God, he is so serious right now. In this moment, how could I not?_

Gilbert held his breath for the few seconds when Matthew didn't move or say anything. Removing his finger from the other's mouth, he was barely able to hear the soft, "Yes, I trust you."

With serious eyes, Gilbert nodded his thanks and pulled Matthew by the hand to the nearest exit, not caring that they would have to walk around in the cool night air in order to reach the car.

"Gil, this isn't the right exit."

"I know. I think a little air would do us some good."

Stepping outside through the back exit, Gilbert let out a sigh. "Are those games always so crowded?"

Matthew frowned. "No. This game was the championship game for this age level in the APH. And with the NHL lockdown, people are probably trying to get in what hockey they can. Why do you ask?"

"When was the last time you were around that many humans in an enclosed space?"

"The last year's Stanley Cup Finals in Vancouver. Why-?"

"Did there happen to be a riot that night?"

Matthew stopped, forcing Gilbert to stop, too. There were still holding the other's hand through neither had notice up to this point. "What are you saying, Gil?"

"I'm saying that there may be more than one reason we're not supposed to interact with a large number of humans."

* * *

Matthew silent as he drove home, floored with this realization. _Was I the cause of all those riots? Were those people's injuries and the damages to property entirely my fault?_ Matthew didn't know, but he certainly wasn't planning on going out anytime soon.

Gilbert, however, was concerned about Matthew. His face had only become closed and clouded as the minutes passed since Gilbert last spoke. Whatever he was thinking, it could not be good. Gilbert was beginning to feel desperate that Matthew say or do something, _anything_ , besides stare at the road in silence. "Back when I had a kingdom, I was around my people a lot."

Matthew startled. Gilbert never talked about the past. "Gil-"

"I always thought that the fights that broke out were a normal part of village life. Life was hard for everyone back then so the release of tension through fighting looked like a logical action in an age before books or, hell, literacy. But, Birdie, I was different than I am now. At my core, I was the most confrontational person you would ever want to meet. I thrived on battle and every war was like a special kind of treat to me. I can't help but wonder if those fights that struck me as normal were in fact my fault."

"Gil, you didn't know."

Gilbert looked at Matthew. "Neither did you. So don't blame yourself for what's happened. We can't change it, so just learn from it, okay?"

Matthew's mouth twitched into something that resembled a smile. "Nice trick."

"It was an _awesome_ trick, but that doesn't make what I said less true. I don't think any one of us knows the effect we have on our people."

"That is concerning. Everyone really should know."

"You have to go to a world meeting soon, right? You should give a presentation or something on this."

Matthew gave a bitter laugh. "If we want the rest of the nations to understand this, I shouldn't be the one making the presentation."

Gilbert looked at Matthew for a silent moment. Matthew could feel the weight of Gilbert's gaze, making him flush and really focus on the road. "Why not?"

"You saw how most humans don't really see me, right? Well it's no different with Nations. People only really see me when it's convenient for them or they need something from me. Otherwise they just look right through me. You are one of the few exceptional people that see me all the time."

"Those fuckers."

Matthew snapped his head to Gilbert, surprised by the malice in his voice. "Gil, what's wrong? It's not their fault they don't see me. I'm not the most notable person around and-"

"Don't give me that, Birdie. You are the second largest nation in the world. Sure, you're quiet, but that doesn't excuse them from not seeing you. It is entirely their fault for being unawesome assholes. Don't defend them, okay?"

"Some nations can see me. Nate, the Netherlands, began to see me after the Second World War. Carlos, Cuba, sees me, even if he sometimes mistakes me for Alfred and tries to beat me up-" Matthew caught Gilbert's dark look "-and this is not helping my case."

"No, it really isn't."

With nothing else to really say about this, Matthew changed the topic. "Well, so much for showing you the joys of hockey."

Gilbert took in Matthew's defeated expression (and accepted the topic change) and had an idea. "You could always just teach me to play."

"Gil, that's a great idea! I don't know why I didn't think that before. We should talk about when we should start." Matthew pulled up to his house and parked. "Do you want something to eat first or-"

"Uh, actually, I'm a little tired. I haven't been sleeping well and the jet lag finally hit me."

"I'm sorry. Please, go to sleep. I didn't mean to wear you out-"

"Don't worry about it. I'm sure it's just jet lag."

"Alright…" They walked into the house only to be greeted by a polar bear cub and a small yellow bird. Kumajiro was nowhere to be seen. Gilbert, closely followed by Gilbird, began to head up the stairs.

"Don't make too many plans. Remember that tomorrow is my turn to show you an awesome time. Goodnight, Birdie."

"Goodnight, Gil." Matthew shook his head at what possible activities they would get up to the next night. _Although_ , he thought scathingly, _I doubt it will be worse than my attempt tonight._

Matthew picked up Maple Leaf and tried to block out the implications of what he had learned tonight. _It can wait until tomorrow_ , Matthew decided. _It can all wait until tomorrow._

* * *

Gilbert was exhausted, but he needed to change his rules before he saw Matthew again. A lot had changed over the course of one day. He had already thrown out more than one rule and did some things not covered by them that were concerning, so this was kind of an emergency situation. He just had to make this quick since he was about ten minutes from falling asleep standing.

After brushing his teeth, Gilbert took out his journal, scribbling frantically.

**Awesome Journal,**

**The rules I made before turned out not to be awesome enough to deal with the force of Birdie's presence. (Mattie is Birdie now, by the way!) Anyway, these are some quick changes:**

**Five and Nine are null and void.**

**Avoid any situation where it is more natural to seduce Birdie than just talk to him.**

**Uh, my brain is too unawesomely tired to think anymore! Gott verdammt jet lag. These will have to do for now.**

**Awesome Me**

That done (although half-assly, Gilbert would admit), Gilbert barely had the energy to put his journal away and bid Gillbird goodnight before falling on the bed, asleep before he hit the mattress.


	10. Chapter 9: Comfort and Cooking

Matthew sat at his kitchen table. It was 5:30 in the morning and the sun had not yet risen. He stared unseeingly into his cooling cup of maple flavored coffee, his thoughts looping around the implications of what he had learned last night. For years, Matthew had gravitated to large population centers and events, being a part of a crowd for just a few hours before retreating to his solitude. Even then, he had been invisible to those around him, but he was still able to be _there_ , in the middle of it all. But now it looked like he never would be able to do so again.

Matthew's mind kept returning to a few memorable riots in his recent history. The Guns 'n' Roses concerts…that worker's strike…those hockey games. _Oh, God, those hockey games,_ Matthew thought in despair. He put his head in his hands dejectedly as the most pressing thought that he tried to block out screamed through his head: he would never be able to attend another hockey game.

The guilt he felt over the injuries of his people and the damages to property which _may have very well been entirely his fault_ was like a fist tightening around his heart. The pain of it brought tears to his eyes. In order to do his best for his people, he would have to give up one of the few joys of his life. He liked the other extreme sports he did in his spare time, but they were all individual activities, so fundamentally different from hockey that they would never fill the void. Neither would just watching a game on the television; so much of the energy that Matthew craved was lost through a broadcast. The realization took his breath away.

His brain scrambled to find a way around this limitation, this personal sacrifice. _Gil was with me last night,_ he remembered. _He stopped me from causing trouble._ Momentarily, Matthew's spirits were lifted; he could still go to games, he just needed a…spotter of sorts. It took all of an instant for this hope to be crushed. _Gil's going to leave._

While Gilbert had yet to specify the length of his stay, he would leave eventually. He would go back to Europe to be with his family, his numerous friends. He would soon be bored with Matthew, so used to the wild antics of his European friends back home. Soon, he would too forget the nation of Canada even existed just like everyone else, and Matthew would be left alone again, unseen for years, decades. Nothing like this could last, Matthew knew from experience. This happiness he had was fleeting and Matthew could see no solution as to how he could hold on to it for longer.

The Canadian silently sobbed at his kitchen table, unable to find a path that didn't lead to his own personal hell.

* * *

Gilbert woke refreshed. While his night was not dreamless, it lacked the disturbing nightmares that had plagued him previously. Gilbert moved to stretch, only to find his movements limited by the clothing he wore yesterday.

Laughing quietly to himself, Gilbert stripped off his clothes and grabbed his towel in the early morning light. Gilbert looked out the window to see a beautiful morning with the sun not far above the horizon, pleased that for once the weather matched his mood. Of course, it was rare that he was happy or even awake in the mornings, but that was neither here nor there.

But he really couldn't think of anything to be upset with at the moment. Gilbert thought about his state of affairs while going through the motions of his shower. Sure, Roderich had ripped his heart out earlier in the week and he was avoiding everyone he knew and loved, but was that really so bad? It didn't feel like it at the moment. If Austria had been anything less than cruel about Gilbert's feelings, the Prussian doubted that he ever would have met the Canadian, which would have been a tragedy. The quiet man was polite but passionate and had the unusual ability to keep Gilbert on his toes. When the two were quiet together like yesterday when Matthew had to work and Gilbert was reading, Gilbert felt content just by being in the other's presence. Plus, Gilbert had Matthew's pancakes to look forward to.

With a now damp towel around his waist, Gilbert was heading back to his room when he had the urge to knock on Matthew's closed door. Never one to resist the more harmless impulses, Gilbert knocked on Matthew's door with a soft, "Birdie?"

There was no answer and Gilbert cautiously opened the door a little, subconsciously hoping that Matthew was still asleep (and ignoring the possibility of breaking his first rule in dealing with Matthew). To Gilbert's surprise (and slight disappointment), Matthew wasn't even in his room. The clock read 7:30, so Matthew couldn't be far. Gilbert doubted that much was open at such an early hour and strained his ears for the tell-tale sounds of Matthew cooking. When all he found was silence, concern started to grow in his gut. Gilbert checked the office only to find it empty. It was then that Gilbert remembered their discoveries last night and the look on Matthew's face as he drove home. After just a few days with Matthew, Gilbert knew it would be the Canadian's nature to dwell on what happened.

Forgetting that he was clad in only a towel, Gilbert hurried to the stairs asking loudly, "Birdie!?"

Matthew was startled from his daze at the kitchen table by Gilbert's exclamation and rushed footsteps. After he had cried for some time, Matthew sat numbly at the table, drained of emotions and energy to do anything but sit. Kumajiro had come in and laid his head on Matthew's shoulder at some point, but he didn't remember when. In fact, he had no idea how long he had sat there, but it was time to get up. He would be damned if Gilbert saw him like this. No need to drive the Nation away with his emotional problems sooner than necessary. Taking his almost full cup of cold coffee to the sink, Matthew gathered himself to shoo in Kumajiro out of the kitchen with a pat on the head and respond with a weak, "Yes, Gil?"

Of course, Gilbert didn't hear Matthew speak over his own heartbeat, but he did hear the sound of running water from the kitchen. One hand clutching the now loose towel (and barely noticing the large polar bear exiting the back door), Gilbert ran to the kitchen, almost falling with his slightly damp feet on the wood and tile of the floors. Seeing Matthew with his back turned to him, Gilbert rushed to Canada's side in order to turn the other man to face him.

Matthew was surprised at the sudden movement and didn't have time to mask his face. His eyes held the same desolate resignation that chilled Gilbert when they first met and at the arcade. In addition to this, Matthew's eyes were puffy and red and his skin was unnaturally pale. Tear tracks, long dried, were still slightly visible on is his cheeks. It broke something in Gilbert so see Matthew look so…hopeless.

Internally, Matthew cursed. He was going to use the still running water to wash away both his cold coffee and the salt on his face, but he only had time for the coffee before Gilbert turned him around. Now it was obvious that he had been crying and was basically an emotional wreck. Frantically, Matthew tried to play it off. With a sorry attempt of a smile, Matthew said, "Good morning, Gil. I was just having some coffee-"

Matthew was cut off by a hug. One minute he was looking at the counter to avoid the concern in Gilbert's eyes and the next he being embraced by the very person he was hoping to avoid. While the grip was only with one arm, its strength surprised Matthew, instantly informing him that if he wanted to get away it was going to be a fight. Not one for confrontation, Matthew tried to speak. "Gil? I'm fine, really. I just-"

Gilbert just hugged Matthew tighter and shook his head. If the way Matthew looked bothered him, the utter normalcy of his voice was alarming. How often did Matthew feel this way in order to perfect this utterly polite, kind voice when he looked like the world had just come crashing down around his feet? To be this perfect at it, Gilbert knew, it took a couple human lifetimes. How could one so young be so adept at it? Gilbert didn't wish to ponder on it further.

Meanwhile, Matthew struggled to figure out where to put his hands. It hadn't taken long into the hug to realize that Gilbert was half naked and fresh from the shower. To add insult to injury, Matthew just didn't receive that many hugs. The one last night from Rudy was exceptional and it was usually years between hugs for Matthew. It left the Canadian stiff and unyielding, no matter how much he was coming to appreciate the comforting gesture. It had been a long time since anyone bothered to comfort him.

Gilbert finally realized the state of his undress. Jumping away from Matthew like he had been burned, Gilbert adjusted his towel and rubbed the back of his neck. "Uh, give me a second, Birdie." With that the Prussian all but flew upstairs, tipping in his haste.

Matthew stared after him for a second, his cheeks regaining some color as a short laugh escaped him. Leave it to Gil to forget that he was half naked. Spirits slightly lifted, Matthew splashed cold water on his face and began getting out the ingredients for pancakes.

* * *

Gilbert couldn't help but blush at his actions as he hastily pulled on some clothes and ruffled his hair with a towel. He had pulled a Feliciano! Okay, so he wasn't completely naked when he hugged the other man but still! And Feliciano stopped hugging others naked that last time after Ludwig almost had an aneurism… But getting back to the point, Gilbert was supposed to comfort the Canadian, not molest him. _I have to fix this_ , he thought. _I need to help him. Or at least cheer him up, a little._

After throwing on his iron cross pendant, Gilbert hurried back to the kitchen to see a much more composed Canadian mixing some ingredients in a bowl. Gilbert frowned until an idea came to him.

"Let me cook, Birdie."

Determined to show that he was alright, Matthew quirked an eyebrow at his friend. "You cook, Gil?"

Gilbert narrowed his eyes at Matthew. _I see how it is, Birdie. But I have perfected the show-'em-a-strong-face technique since before you were born. Two can play that game._ "Of course I do, Birdie. What made you think otherwise?"

"The utter lack of domestic skill that you have displayed thus far?"

"Are you going to make me pout about it? Because I'm sure I could conjure one up in a second and-"

"No! Not that! Okay, how about a compromise? I can teach you how to make pancakes. This way you get to cook and I get to make sure that what you cook is edible."

"Harsh, Birdie, harsh. But the awesome me accepts your compromise."

The corner of Matthew's mouth twitched at Gilbert's proclamation and Gilbert internally cheered himself. _This might just work,_ he told himself.

* * *

Matthew stared up at the man sprawled on top of him in mild disbelief. They were both covered in flour with splotches of batter here and there. Matthew tried to remember how he got in this situation.

The cooking lesson began well, with Matthew explaining what went into the batter when and how Gilbert was supposed to butter the pan. Then, when it came to Gilbert actually doing stuff, all hell broke loose. First, Gilbert managed to trip over his own feet when he was carrying a cup of flour from the sink to the island, covering them both in the stuff. Then, when Matthew wasn't looking, Gilbert got the idea that the pancakes would be better if he used a machine mixer rather than stirring the batter by hand like Matthew always did. But he set the thing on a too high setting and ended up splattering half the batter on the counter and the two Nations. What batter Matthew was able to save, Gilbert managed to burn half the pancakes as Matthew tried to clean up the disaster zone of a kitchen. The coup de grace was when Gilbert, carrying the mixture of burned and decent pancakes to the table, slipped on a wayward splotch of batter, taking Matthew down with him. Matthew craned his neck to see if any pancakes had survived the fall. Sure enough, two out of five remained on the now broken plate. Of course, one of them was burned.

Gilbert looked at Matthew with a groan as he started to get himself off of the other. He tried, he really did, but everything had just gone wrong so fast. Going a little red with embarrassment, Gilbert placed his hand on the floor next to Matthew…only to have it slip out from under him, leaving the Prussian flush against the Canadian. Trying his damndest not to focus on how well they fit together or how toned Matthew felt beneath him, Gilbert tried to get up again. After succeeding in getting his body weight off the other man, Gilbert spotted the scattered pancakes and broken plate. "I'm sorry I-"

Gilbert cut himself off as he noticed a fine trembling in Matthew's body and his quickly reddening face. Alarmed and slightly aroused Gilbert started to ask, "Birdie! Are you o-"

Matthew burst out laughing. Gilbert stared down at Matthew in shock. The Canadian was actually laughing at him. In fact, Matthew clutched his sides and tears began to leak from his eyes. This was a laugh no one could fake. Gilbert, relieved to see Matthew so joyous after he looked so lost, gathered false indignation. "Are you laughing at me, Birdie?"

Matthew had to bite his lip to contain himself enough to answer the question. "Yes, I am. You got a problem with it?"

"Well what if I do?"

"Then that's just too bad, eh?"

Gilbert's eyes widened. Then determination crossed his face and Matthew became a little wary. Gilbert thought it was his time for revenge. "Are you ticklish, Birdie?"

Matthew's eyes widened. He was extremely ticklish. "No-"

"Well let's test that."

Gilbert attacked Matthew's sides, causing the Canadian to give a roar of laughter and arch his back in an attempt to get away. His face got impossibly redder and he squeezed his eyes shut against the onslaught of sensation. "Ah-Gil-please-haha-stop! Hahahaha stop!"

Gilbert stopped but not because Matthew asked him to. His jeans were starting to get a little tight watching Matthew writhe underneath him and he needed to not be doing this anymore to keep from jumping on the Canadian for things nowhere near as innocent as tickling. With a smirk, Gilbert got up from Matthew. "As you wish, Birdie."

Matthew froze for a second, immediately recalling one of his favorite movies from the 1980s. Gilbert offered Matthew a hand up from the floor which the Canadian took, dismissing his thoughts on _The Princess Bride_. He doubted Gilbert would make such a cheesy reference if he even felt that way about him. Which was impossible anyway. Yep, totally inconceivable.

Gilbert had never actually seen _The Princess Bride_ , so he was unaware of how his words affected the Canadian. He looked at the pancakes on the floor in despair. "Well, so much for breakfast."

"You know I'm going to get revenge, right?"

"For what?"

"For the tickling."

Gilbert smirked at the man. "Oh, really? How are you going to do that, Birdie? I'm not ticklish like you."

For some reason, Matthew believed him. Matthew looked around the kitchen, shaking his head as he said, distractedly, "Oh, don't worry about it. It will come in an unexpected way at an unexpected time…"

"What-?"

"How about we clean up then go out to breakfast, okay?"

"Alright… By the way," Gilbert said as he hugged the Canadian from behind. Matthew immediately stiffened then forced himself to relax. "If you need to talk to me, I'm here, okay?" Stepping away from Matthew, Gilbert looked around the kitchen with a grimace. "Let's get started so we can go eat."

Gilbert had succeeded in cheering up Matthew, yet now he had to be on the look out for any future revenge Matthew might cook up. This was a slightly alarming prospect, as Gilbert looked at the now relaxed and happy Canadian out of the corner of his eye as he cleaned, it was worth it.

Now here's to hoping that what he had planned for the night would not undo all his hard work…


	11. Chapter 10: In the Zone

Gilbert adjusted his sleeves as he waited for Matthew to come down stairs. It was 10 pm on a Saturday night and they had places to be.

Gilbert ran a hand through his perpetually messy hair, disturbing Gilbird in the process. He frowned, forgetting his feathered companion was there in his anxiousness. "Hey, Gilbird. You can't hang with us tonight, my man. I don't think the club would be able to handle both of our awesome presences. Why don't you chill with Kumajiro for the night?"

Gilbird extracted himself from the little nest he made and gave a long suffering chirp. Despite the chick's attitude, Gilbird snuggled up to one of Gilbert's cheeks in farewell before zooming off to find Kumajiro who was somewhere in the house for once.

Gilbert went to go grab his phone to check the time only to remember that he didn't have one. Of course, it had probably only been fifteen minutes since he came downstairs himself but he was ready to roll. It had been extremely difficult convincing the Canadian to go out with him after their revelations from last night. So, the sooner he had some concrete evidence that Matthew was going to actually enjoy his choice of entertainment, the better.

Dressed in a black button up shirt, new black jeans, his riding boots (which were the only shoes he brought with him) and his ever present necklace, Gilbert began to pace, needing an outlet for his energy. After about two minutes, Maple Leaf wandered over the entryway between the foyer and the living room. For once, the little bear did not say anything; she just watched Gilbert pace. It didn't help the Prussian's anxiety levels.

Meanwhile, Matthew was debating his attire for the tenth time. The last time Matthew had been to a dance club was in the 1970s with Alfred and he was damn sure that styles had changed since the age of disco.

At a loss, Matthew tried to go with modern. Gilbert told him to dress relatively nice, so Matthew was wearing a dark blue button up shirt, black slacks and dress shoes. The shirt really brought out the color of his eye and the slacks fit him well. Matthew had attempted to tame the curl in front of his face but to no avail. He was in desperate need of a haircut (it almost reached his shoulders now) but there was nothing he could do about that now. With one last look at himself in the mirror, Matthew grabbed his wallet and phone and headed down the stairs to meet Gilbert.

What he found was a pacing demon. Goodness, if Matthew was an overly religious person, he would be more than a little wary about going anywhere with Gilbert. Dressed in all black, his overly pale skin almost seemed to glow and the crimson of his eyes seemed darker, more alive. Combined with a handsome face and the feline grace with which he moved, Gilbert had an otherworldly beauty about him. The kind that would fuck you senseless before your throat was ripped out.

Matthew suppressed a shiver and the insecurities over his appearance doubled. He cleared his throat as he finished coming down the stairs, halting Gilbert's steps and drawing attention to him. "Is what I'm wearing alright? Cause if it's not I'll go change-"

"You look awesome, Birdie," Gilbert said, the look in his eyes unreadable to Matthew. "Are you ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be."

* * *

Matthew eyed the line into the club. It was around the corner and contained people dressed in various states of undress. Okay, the _women_ were in various states of undress while the men were dressed similarly to Gilbert and Matthew. _Good call on the clothing, Gil,_ Matthew thought. They were approaching the club from the far side of the line which Matthew was not keen on waiting in. Still, he was surprised when Gilbert bypassed the end of the turn to reach the end of the line and continued towards the door.

"Uh, Gil?"

"Yes, Birdie?"

"Don't we have to wait to get in?"

Gilbert smirked. "Oh, Birdie. You really haven't been out in a while have you?"

"Well, no…"

"You know that symbol on our passports and ID cards? It puts us on the guest list everywhere that has one. And I called ahead just in case things were done differently here. Either way, we can go straight to the door."

"What? How does that even work?"

"Francy-Pants and Tony got it pushed through at one of those pointless meetings you go to in the 1980s. It's in all the clauses of building permits to admit 'dignitaries' with the nations' symbol immediately. I know that people sometimes don't actually do anything about what's decided at those world meetings so I called ahead."

"Huh."

"Awesome, right?"

Matthew nodded as the approached the bouncers outside of the door. The both looked large and in charge in black shirts and black cargo pants. Both were as muscular as Ludwig which was impressive. They looked like identical twins with the same features and dark skin. The one on the right spoke. "The line starts around the corner, boys."

"We're on the list."

The one on the left was holding the list on a clip board. "Names and IDs please."

Gilbert handed over his driver's license. "Gilbert Beilschmidt and Matthew Williams."

The guard saw the symbol on Gilbert's license and handed it back to him quickly. Matthew offered his ID but the guard said, "No need, Mr. Williams. You're both clear. If you show your ID's at the VIP entrance they will let you in."

"Thank you, sirs," Matthew said, always polite.

"Ja, danke." Taking Matthew's hand, Gilbert pulled him towards the opening door. "Welcome to my world, Birdie."

The first think Matthew noticed was the noise. When he had walked/been dragged through the door, it felt like he had run into a wall of sound. To go from the relative quiet of outside to this left Matthew a little dazed. It was a good thing Gilbert had his hand or he might have just stood in entry way, waiting for his ears to adjust to this onslaught of music.

Then his eyes burned from flash of the strobe light ruining the night vision that he had acquired from the drive over and the stroll outside. The white globes floating in his vision from the rapid changes of light intensity were given color by the multicolored lasers zooming around the room. Matthew closed his eyes and tightened his hold on to Gilbert's hand, trusting him to lead them through the mess of lights in front of them. Now he could focus on the beat that thrummed through his body with every base note of the fast paced song. He couldn't catch the lyrics and didn't recognize the tune, but the feel of the music was enough to make him want to move to it, just a little.

Gilbert looked back at Matthew at the increase of pressure on his hand. Seeing that he had closed his eyes, Gilbert led Matthew to the nearest available seat and sat him down. Leaning in close to the other so that he could be heard over the music, he yelled, "Are you okay!?"

Matthew slit his eyes opened and stared at Gilbert for a second, seeing his eyes completely opened and his body completely at ease despite the sensory overload that overwhelmed Matthew. "How are you not blinded by the lights?"

Matthew talked in his normal voice which was difficult to hear under normal circumstances. Now it was impossible. Gilbert wished he could read lips. "What did you say!?"

"The lights!" This came out at the volume of most people's inside voices.

"What!?"

"THE-" _Oh, fuck it,_ Matthew thought. He made a motion to shield his eyes from the lights then gestured to Gilbert hoping that the Prussian understood him.

Gilbert, thankfully, did. "I'm just used to it, that's all! Let's find some drinks, okay!?"

Matthew nodded his head then put a hand on Gilbert's shoulder to still him. Then he put his mouth right next to his ear and yelled as hard as he could. "CAN WE FIND THE VIP AREA!? IT MIGHT BE QUIETER!"

Gilbert actually heard this, so he nodded and searched with a practiced eye for the entrance to the VIP section. Spotting the entrance, Gilbert yelled, "I'll lead you there but keep your eyes open! You need to adjust so you can see!"

Matthew nodded and squinted as best he could. Taking Matthew's hand, Gilbert led them through the mass of sweaty patrons as they took a break from dancing. Gilbert thanked God that the entrance to their intended destination was not by the dance floor which was packed with people living their Saturday up.

The bouncer guarding the VIP entrance looked down at Gilbert. He was a tall man of possible Hispanic decent and looked like he knew how to keep things under control. "ID's please!"

Gilbert presented his license once again only to have it handed back to him almost immediately. The bouncer stepped out of the way and opened the door for them. There was a stairway that led upstairs and Gilbert happily led Matthew through. Once the door was closed behind them, the sound level dropped to a reasonable level and the strobe effect was lost. Gilbert was able to talk in his normal voice. "Is this what you wanted?"

"This is just fine, Gil." Matthew dropped Gilbert's hand, able to maneuver himself without difficulty. "Are clubs always like this?"

"No, not always. It probably doesn't help that it's Saturday. Come on."

The two climbed the stairs until they reached the plush region that had to be the VIP section. The royal purple carpet was thick enough that one could feel their feet sink a little with every step. There were various black and white chaise lounges and chairs placed around the room. The tables and accent pillows were silver and the art adorning the wall was tasteful. The most startling feature of the room was the full length window on the left side that gave a perfect view of the dance floor, lasers and all. The best part about it was that the lighting effects did not carry over into this room. Gilbert recalled large mirrors above the dance floor. _Clever,_ Gilbert thought. A two way mirror let the VIP's watch what was happening while keeping them apart from it. It also reflected the light effects that had left Matthew blind.

Gilbert sat down on one of the black chaises that were close to the window. From this vantage point, he was able to take in the layout of the club. The bar downstairs was not far from where he sat Matthew down earlier. He could see rows and rows of well organized liquor, back lit with shifting colors to create a stunning effect. The dance floor was full of people but he could see the individually lit squares underneath them that comprised the actual floor. In addition to this, he several raised platforms in and around the dance floor which had the more adventurous humans dancing on them. The DJ was placed just off the side to the dance floor _Not bad,_ he thought. _Not bad at all._

Matthew, however, took in the same sight in quiet amazement. _Wow,_ he thought. _It's so different yet the same from back then. Of course, I would have been able to see all this if those lights hadn't been so distracting…_

"Excuse me."

Gilbert and Matthew both turned around to see a young woman with short blonde hair and wide brown eyes looking at them. From the looks of her black and white uniform, she was a waitress. "My name is Erica and I'll be serving you tonight. Would either of you like something to drink or eat?"

Gilbert smirked at the girl, getting a slightly flustered looked back. "Perfect timing, Fräulein. Do you serve any German beers?"

Erica thought for a bit then replied. "Yes, sir. We serve Schneider Weisse Original and Paulaner."

"I'll have the Paulaner, bitte."

"And for you, sir?"

"I'll have a whiskey, neat, please."

Gilbert looked at Matthew but Erica took it in stride. "Any particular brand, sir?"

"Crown Royal, please."

Erica nodded. "Right away, sirs. Please make yourselves comfortable."

"Thank you, Erica." Matthew sat down on the surprisingly comfortable chaise. It was rare that something that looked so good would also be so comfy.

Gilbert was still looking at him. "What is it, Gil?"

"I just didn't take you as a whiskey guy, that's all."

"Well, I doubt that they serve Sortilege here." When he saw Gilbert's blank look he said, "It's basically Canadian whiskey and maple syrup liquor."

Gilbert laughed and sat down besides Matthew. "You're probably right, but you should ask anyway. I'm actually surprised Francy-pants didn't make you into wine guy."

Matthew laughed, turning towards Gilbert and settling in. "He actually did try but it turns out I'm like my brother in this respect. Alfred has his bourbon and I have my Sortilege. Wine is too…"

"Trust me, Birdie. You don't have to finish that sentence. I more than understand the avoidance of the stuff. I'm Prussian. All I want to drink is beer."

"Oh, come on, Gil. You've got to drink more than that."

"Well, I drink scotch on occasion. And champagne only when absolutely necessary."

"Well what about…"

And so their conversation carried on, moving from alcohol to music to a variety of other topics. Neither one realized that their discourses were observed with great interest by one of the other patrons. Nor did they know how this patron would affect the rest of their evening.

* * *

"Monsieur Williams?"

Matthew looked up to see the shocked face of a co-worker. "Monsieur Deveraux, bonsoir. Comment allez-vous?"

"Comme ci comme ça. Je ne m'attendais pas vous…"

…And this is when Gilbert stopped listening to what was actually said and just focused on the sound of Matthew speaking French. It was different than the Parisian French that he largely understood thanks to spending time with Francis. More sounds were swallowed, making the cadence of speech more rapid than his rusty French could follow easily. A few words were different here and there, but it was still close enough to Parisian French that Gilbert got the jist of what was said. He liked the way Matthew sounded when he spoke his version of French.

The co-workers were speaking for a minute or two about work related things when Matthew looked at Gilbert. "Monsieur Deveraux, I would like you to meet my good friend Gilbert Beilschmidt." Gilbert flinched slightly at his introduction. He didn't want to dwell too much on why, though. "He's staying with me a while."

"It's nice to meet a friend of Monsieur Williams," His accent was different than Matthew's in English. It sounded closer to Alfred's. Gilbert really looked at the man holding his hand out to him. Deveraux was tall, dark and handsome with wavy brown hair and bedroom hazel eyes. He was dressed in tailored slacks and a purple button up shirt that actually made him look good. Gilbert immediately disliked him. Taking the offered hand, Gilbert sneered at the man.

The "nice to meet you," Gilbert responded with clearly didn't match the "fuck off" tone in his voice. The two men's eyes met each other and mutual understanding passed between them in that silent way that guys have. Deveraux wasn't backing down to Gilbert. And that just pissed Prussia off.

Releasing Gilbert's hand, Deveraux purposefully shifted his focus to Matthew, seemingly dismissing Gilbert, but saying, in English mind you, "Well, I hope that you enjoy the rest of your vacation, Monsieur Williams. I don't know how we will survive at the office without you these upcoming weeks."

Matthew laughed, aware of the tension between his co-worker and his friend but unsure what to make of it. He decided to act like nothing was amiss since he didn't know what was wrong. "I'm sure you all will survive just fine without me."

"I don't know about that, Monsieur Williams. I just don't know." After letting his statement hang there for a second, Deveraux continued, "Well, have a good evening."

"You too, Monsieur Deveraux. Drive safely."

"Yeah, see you around, asshole," Gilbert mumbled under his breath, glaring daggers at the other man.

"What did you say, Gil?"

"Nothing, Birdie. But, you know, I just realized that we've been here for at least an hour and we have yet to actually get on the dance floor."

Matthew paled a little. "Uh, Gil, I don't really know how to dance…"

"It's easy, Birdie. All you have to do is move to the beat and let the music guide your actions."

"What?"

"Okay… how about this: I'll dance a song or two down there and you can watch me from up here. I'll get on one of the platforms to make it easy for you to see me one of the songs. That way you can see what I mean when I say 'just move to the beat.' Sound's good?"

"Get on one of the…" Matthew went red just thinking about the embarrassment he would feel dancing on one of the raised platforms. "You don't have to do that Gil. I could easily spot you in a crowd so there is no need to go on one of the platforms…"

"Kesesese, no worries, Birdie. While I appreciate your ability to pick me out of the crowd," Matthew's blush deepened, "I love dancing on tables and the like."

"Well if you're sure."

Gilbert smirked mischievously (which is different than his usual arrogant smirk, by the way). "Oh, yes, Birdie. I'm sure."

Gilbert left the room, eager to show of the skills he had acquired through years of barhopping. Matthew's eyes followed him out of the door, slightly apprehensive for some reason. The ever vigilant patron noticed everything, just as ready to watch Gilbert dance as he was to do so. If Gilbert danced well enough, then he would be perfect for that patron's plan. It was time to see if that grace he displayed walking translated to the dance floor.

* * *

Even with the mix the DJ was spinning, Gilbert immediately recognized "I Like That." Pleased with his luck, Gilbert danced his way through the mass of humanity to get to one of the platforms through the intro of the song. By the time the singing began, he was up on the platform closest to the entrance to the VIP section. He looked up briefly to see his tiny reflection on the mirror and smirked. Then, Gilbert closed his eyes and _moved._

Matthew could only stare as the nation that he had been housing transformed from the somewhat self-contained man to the embodiment of the music. He knew every change in tempo, every down and up-beat, every perfect moment to twist his body in ways that showed agility, flexibility and remarkable body control. Gilbert had surrendered himself to the song. And it was sexy as hell.

Apparently, Matthew was not the only one who thought so. Within the short five minutes that the song played, Gilbert had gained a small group of fans who stood on the ground below his platform, cheering him on and mimicking his movements.

The song ended too soon and Gilbert ceased dancing. Matthew drew in a shaky breath, a little thrown by the performance. He saw Gilbert hop off the platform and, instead of watching him wade through the humans around him, Matthew turned to their table and drained the rest of his whiskey. He needed time to compose himself before Gilbert made it up the stairs again. He needed time to convince himself that that burning in his stomach was from the whiskey and not from watching the man he called his friend.

 _Now is the time_ , the silent patron thought, hurrying down the stairs from the VIP area, _to make my entrance._

* * *

Gilbert was a little breathless. He had put on a bit of a show for Matthew, he would admit. But he must have looked pretty awesome if all those guys and girls he had to wade through had anything to say about it. Gilbert was at the entrance of the VIP lounge, ready to start walking up the stairs when he was abruptly pulled into the stairwell and slammed against the wall by a surprisingly strong grip. The door to the rest of the club closed and Gilbert, now thoroughly aware of his predicament moved to fight back. "What the-" A voice stopped his movements. A female voice.

"How does a man who walks like he owns the world and dances like sex get trapped in the friend zone?"

Gilbert looked at the woman who had caught him off guard. With wavy black hair to her waist, deep blue eyes, lips that looked naturally red and pale skin, she had a Snow White vibe going for her. But instead of innocence, this woman radiated sin in a blue and black corset, tight black pants and thigh-high leather boots. The look in her eyes screamed determination and her words finally registered with Gilbert. "Look, lady, I have no idea what you're-"

"That man you have been with all night, the one with the beautiful eyes and wayward curl? You want him. Bad."

"No, I don't. We're just-"

"-Friends, right? Then why were you ready to jump that American for talking to him? Why did you tell him to watch you dance before moving like that? Why do you call him such an obvious pet name when he only calls you Gil? Why did you flinch when he introduced you as a friend?" She took in his expression and laughed. "Oh,calm down, will you? I've just been watching you two all night. It's quite clear to anyone bothering to look how you feel about him."

Gilbert swallowed, knowing that this woman had an aim to this conversation. For some reason, he wanted to know what it was. "Why were you watching us? Why does any of that matter?"

"You know why it matters. I started watching you two when you entered the VIP area. You're a bit eye catching, you know? But once I figured out that you were in the same situation as me, I thought we might be able to help each other. Being in the friend zone is a bitch, don't you agree?"

Gilbert stared at this woman, knowing that he should walk away and return to his friend, just his friend, no matter how much that label was beginning to grate his nerves. He knew he should forget the too honest words of this woman and remember his rules. But all he said after a moment was, "What did you have in mind?"

* * *

A new song began, signaling to Matthew that it had been a few minutes since Gilbert had stopped dancing. _Well, he did say that he might be dancing more than one song…_ Matthew thought, standing up to survey the dance floor for the recognizable silver mop. It didn't take long to find him.

Standing on the platform in the center of the dance floor featured Gilbert dancing with a very attractive woman. But that didn't quite cover it. It was like watching porn, but everyone had their clothes on. The words of the song, so clear in the VIP area, registered in Matthew's head as he watched the couple dance.

_Two single hearts on fire, Currently on the wire_

_As inhibitions fade, A focused moment made_

_Bruises and bitemarks say, Takes one to bring the pain_

_Passion lies in screams of estacitic dreams_

_You're in a place for fear, lips are for biting here_

_Let's make the moment worth the while, Let's kill the night and go down in style_

_Feel the magic rise, we're plotting our demise_

_Of perspiration and alcohol as I introduce the bedroom brawl_

_You bring the ropes and chains, I bring the pills and games_

_I can show you pain and make you say my name..._

Matthew didn't know how he felt as he watched the pair dance in almost matching clothes and pale skin that looked ethereal in the strobe lights. The way that they moved to the song, God, it could have been a performance arraigned by the club. Every action and reaction of the duo was meant to display a message of ecstasy and controlled violence. Matthew couldn't know what he felt, but he could discern an utter desire to be in that woman's shoes, no matter how uncomfortable they looked.

"-the fuck is she doing!?" Matthew looked at the man who had come to stand next to him at the glass. His eyes were glued to one spot in the center of floor below them and they were furious. Matthew just couldn't help himself.

"Is she yours?"

The man, who was actually an inch shorter than Matthew with chocolate eyes, a strong jaw line and wide shoulders, almost told the other to fuck off before he recognized him as the man who came in with the albino; the same albino who was practically having sex in the middle of a crowd with his best friend's sister. "Isn't he _yours_?"

The song was ending and the pair in the VIP section looked down at their counterparts. Gilbert, in all his glory, finished with an almost gentlemanly kiss on the woman's hand, staring into her eyes the entire time. It was a heart stopping moment full of chemistry and heat. It looked to all the world like these two were going to find a nice dark corner to relieve themselves of some tension, and the two men left behind the glass shared a moment of mutual understanding that this could not be allowed to happen. Little did they know that the show was all for them.

* * *

"Whew! Good thing you're gay and we're both in love with someone else 'cause otherwise I might just be walking funny tomorrow. That was so _hot_!"

"Well, thank you. You weren't too bad yourself and I'm actually bi. Oh, and the song choice was awesome."

"The perks of having a brother as the DJ…"

"Kesesese, well I- wait. I'm not in love with Bir- I mean Matthew."

She looked at him like he was an idiot. "Right, and I'm the fucking Easter Bunny." Gilbert opened his mouth to protest but the woman cut him off with a sharp movement of a hand. "Enough of this. We have two probably confused and jealous men to deal with. It was nice plotting with you." She held out a hand.

Gilbert gladly took it. "You, too. I'm Gilbert, by the way."

She gave a laugh that was infectious enough to bring a genuine smile to Gilbert's face at the sound. "Right, we skipped that part, didn't we? I'm Alex. It's nice to meet you, Gilbert. Now let's go deal with our men, shall we?"

* * *

Gilbert was expecting the punch so he had time to duck out of the way and move out of range of the man he assumed that Alex was after. He looked into the other's eyes and was pleased to see rage, presumably of the jealous kind. _Mission accomplished._

"Richard?" Alex asked in a much softer, more innocent voice than Gilbert had yet heard from the woman. He barely kept his jaw hinged at the sight of confused innocent eyes after the display they had just put on together. _Women are dangerous creatures_ , he thought to himself in awe. "What are you doing to Gilgil?" _Gilgil? This woman is a mad genius. She has to be desperate for this man._

"Gilgil?" Both Matthew and this Richard fellow said at the same time with the same amount of disbelief.

Richard had clearly had enough fun for the evening. After shooting one a death glare at Gilbert (who has kept up a poker face through this interaction), Richard simply picked Alex and threw her over his shoulder as he stopped at their table to grab her purse and then left the VIP area. Alex verbally protested her predicament but gave a thumbs up and a smile to Gilbert before she disappeared from view.

"Never mess with a woman with a plan, Birdie. They are some dangerous, crazy ass creatures. She makes me glad I'm more into guys."

"What?"

Gilbert walked over nonchalantly to their table and finished off his beer, signaling Erica for another one across the room. Matthew followed, utterly confused. First he thought that he would have to restrain Gilbert from having sex with the woman in public and now he's being told that Gilbert didn't even _like_ women much? "Can you please explain to me what just happened, Gil?"

"Sure. I was coming up from dancing that first time when Alex-that's her name- asked me to help her make the man she loves jealous so that he could finally see her as something other than a friend/sister figure. One of her brothers is the DJ so I agreed to dance with her for one song to help her out. I made sure to make it as heated as possible. It looks like her plan worked."

"…oh."

"Oh? That's all I get for awesomely helping a damsel in distress? Oh?"

Matthew looked askance at Gilbert for a moment. "Well what were you expecting for dancing like a wet-dream in public just to make someone jealous? A pat on the head, maybe?"

"So you liked my dancing, hmmm?"

Matthew went red. _You have no_ idea _how much I liked your dancing_ , Matthew thought. What he said was, "Sure, you're pretty smooth on the dance floor. It's a shame you can't be that smooth in the kitchen."

Gilbert laughed. "Well, excuse me, Mr. Domestic. It only makes sense that I'm more awesome at some things than others. If I was awesome at everything the world would not be big enough to contain my awesomeness."

Matthew face-palmed. "You're a mess."

Gilbert chugged his newly arrived beer then said, "Let's see what you learned from my show, ja?" Gilbert extracted his wallet and threw enough bills on the table to cover everything and leave a nice tip. Gilbert then stood and looked at Matthew expectantly. Matthew tossed back he recently refilled whiskey and sighed. He figured that he was going to be embarrassed so a little liquid courage was welcome. As he walked out of the VIP lounge with Gilbert, he wished that alcohol had more effect on Nations so he could blame what he knew would be a sorry excuse for dancing on decreased motor skills. Oh, well.

*break*

Gilbert recognized the song playing the minute the saxophone line began. He smiled slightly to himself then looked at Matthew, forced to yell again to be heard over the volume. "This song is a little up tempo so just follow the beat, not the melody, okay!?"

Matthew, with his eyes back into slits as he tried to navigate in the strobe lit area, nodded. They were on the edge of the dance floor, giving Matthew a quick escape if he needed one. Gilbert began to dance like he always does, throwing caution into the wind as he moves to the beat, entranced by the music. Matthew tired to imitate Gilbert but he was failing. He ended up doing an awkward little shuffle in time with the music, but that was the best he had to offer at this point. Exhaustion hit him on the way down the stairs, reminding him of his lack of quality sleep the night before and the emotional trials of his morning. _God,_ he thought. _What time is it anyway?_

Gilbert couldn't help but notice that Matthew was fading fast. Concerned, he asked, "Are you okay!? Do you want to go!?"

Matthew snapped back to himself. It was Gilbert's turn to show him how he had fun. He wasn't going to deny the man at least one dance. Summoning on reserves of energy, Matthew reached for Gilbert's hand and started his shuffling motions again with new vigor. Realizing that he would never be heard over the music, Matthew mouthed the words, _Help me dance._

Gilbert understood and took charge of the situation. He looped Matthew's arms around his neck and placed his hands on Matthew's slim hips. In time with the music, Gilbert moved them together. It was less perfect, less smooth than when Gilbert danced by himself, but he loved it more than any dance he had experienced. With a small smile on his lips, Gilbert danced with the one he might possibly love and it was amazing.

Matthew was startled when Gilbert placed his hands on his hips to move them from side to side in time with the beat but soon began to relax as Gilbert led their dance. He found himself looking at Gilbert's face instead of their feet as the song progressed.

_Hey, sexy boy, set me free_

_Don't be so shy, play with me_

_My dirty boy, can't you see_

_That you belong next to me…_

Matthew was staring at Gilbert's mouth. He had been for a while. Gilbert had noticed and let the tension build between them. Thanks to the interference of the interesting human woman, Gilbert could no longer neither ignore that his attraction to Matthew was more than normal in a friendship nor act like the attraction was purely physical. He was throwing his rules out the window, but he wanted Matthew to make the first move. While he was now aware of his stance, he was still unclear on Matthew's. And while the physical chemistry between them was explosive, Gilbert didn't just want this to just be about lust. He didn't know if it was love, but he wanted to find out. He wanted to do this right. Of course, doing thing right started with telling Matthew about why he came to Canada in the first place. Gilbert frowned at the thought.

Matthew mentally started and physically stumbled at the sight of Gilbert's frown. Gilbert caught him and ended up pulling him closer into his body in order to steady the Canadian. Matthew's eyes widened and Gilbert stepped away with a sigh. "You're tired! Let's go home, okay!?"

Matthew nodded. Sooner than he expected, he was standing in the cool air of the early morning. Refreshed by the fresh air, Matthew drove them back to his house in silence. He could tell that something had changed between them, he was just unsure what was different.

It wasn't until Matthew pulled up into his driveway that he said, "I had a lot of fun tonight, Gil. Thanks for taking me out."

Gilbert smiled slightly. "Anytime, Birdie. It was awesome."

Silence fell again and it was full of words yet unsaid and unresolved tensions. Gilbert rubbed the back of his neck, his actions for the next day fixed in his mind. After walking into the house, Gilbert knew he had to get away from Matthew if only to keep from jumping him to relieve the tension between them. "Goodnight, Birdie. See you in the morning."

"Goodnight, Gil. Sleep well."

The two separated, each aware of their own emotions and insecurities. Matthew went to sleep hoping that these complicated feelings would be gone by morning and Gilbert hoped that rest would give him the surety he needed to do what he planned. Neither would know until the sun rose in the morning the failure of sleep to grant these wishes. But, for now, they slept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had some serious internalized misogyny going on when I originally wrote this, so let me explain some things. "The friend zone?" Not an actual thing. Why did I leave it in? Because it was a socially recognizable term that would get the point across. As for the OOC of Alex, she is based off of an occ from my private original fiction who is not afraid of going after what she wants in a blunt matter and was getting sick of her brother's best friend ignoring what they could have just because she was someone's sister. As for Richard literally carrying her off, I thought it was the most expedient and funny way of showing that Alex succeeded. If it helps, she doesn't end up with him in the other story because what person literally carries off someone else?


	12. Chapter 11: The Talk

Gilbert woke up with a start, suppressing the groan that gathered in the back of his throat. He had that dream again, the one where he was killed by his past self while the man who broke his heart fucked the man who might be fixing it. He was so _sick_ of dying in his dreams and he never wanted to see Matthew under another again. He prayed that this dream would not continue to reoccur, but he doubted the effectiveness of the action. God had had better things to do for the past 60 years or so than answering Gilbert's prayers; didn't stop him from trying though.

Gilbert knew he was alone in this. It was up to his subconscious whether the dream came back or not and Gilbert couldn't very well control that. What Gilbert could help was his determination to make Matthew his and his alone. All he needed was a plan…and to find out if Matthew liked men. Sure, they had chemistry, but Matthew's minimal reaction to Gilbert's pronouncement of his sexuality last night was not encouraging. In this, Gilbert wanted actual confirmation. If Matthew was comfortable with his attraction to men, then it would Gilbert would pursue him as planned. If Matthew was in denial (and, after watching Feliciano pursue his so-far-in-the closet-he-doesn't-even-know-he's-in-there brother, Gilbert knew just how far denial could go), it would change the seduction. If Matthew was like Portugal and completely straight…Gilbert was finished before he started. But considering their chemistry, Matthew surely liked men a _little_ , right?

Getting up from bed, Gilbert physically winced at his thoughts. _First off,_ he reminded himself on the way to the bathroom for his shower, _worrying about it isn't going to solve anything. Just ask him, damn it. Second, the first step no matter Matthew's status is the same. Just focus on getting past that, you dummkopf._

Gilbert, lost in his thoughts, was not paying attention to his surroundings. He didn't hear the little sounds coming from the bathroom or the light coming from under said door. As a result, when he reached for doorknob only to have the door yanked open from the other side, Gilbert had to suppress a gasp in surprise. But once he noticed Matthew, fresh from the shower with nothing but a towel around his waist keeping him decent, Gilbert had to suppress a lot more than a gasp. While Matthew was less broad in the shoulders than Gilbert, he was no less in shape. He was built like a man who actually did something other than weightlifting to earn the muscles, so Matthew didn't have the idealized six pack or bulkiness. But the imperfect, very masculine beauty that he did possess was enough to stop all of Gilbert's brain activity as his blood fled south with intentions that no longer involved thinking.

_Think of_ anything _else,_ he thought frantically. _The loss of my empire. West dressed as a ballerina. Spending the day with Ivan. Spending the evening with Natalia after spending the day with Ivan._ Thus, with his libido under control, Gilbert was able to sputter, "B-Birdie? I'm sorry! I didn't-"

Matthew was just as startled by the appearance of Gilbert, but was able to remain composed as he said, "It's no problem, Gil. Good morning."

Gilbert blushed a little and looked at the ground a little. "Morning."

There was a brief pause until Matthew said, "Did you need anything?"

_Yes. You. Underneath me. Now._ "Uh, no, I was just going to take a shower…"

"Well, if that's the case, can I go back to my room now…?"

It hit Gilbert in that moment that he had been effectively blocking the exit for Matthew. Blush renewed, Gilbert jumped out of Matthew's way. "Es tut mir lied!"

Matthew looked at Gilbert, confused. "What does that mean?"

"Sorry…"

Matthew laughed a little to himself. "It's alright, Gil. Do you want pancakes for breakfast again or do you want to go out?"

Gilbert realized that Matthew was trying to be a good host here but he was half way to telling him to just go to his room and get dressed already! The man only had so much self control…"You pick."

"Are you sure?"

"Ja."

Matthew frowned at Gilbert, completely unaware of Gilbert's struggles. He was a little concerned about Gilbert's red face and the fact that he was avoiding Matthew's gaze. Matthew had yet to see the albino with much color in his face or turn down pancakes, so he thought that alarm was called for. "Are you alright? You aren't sick are-" Matthew reached up to touch Gilbert's face, only to have his guest jerk away from him. Matthew was now scowling. "Gilbert, I thought we talked about this."

_That was for your safety, damn it!_ He _knew_ what he would have done if Matthew had succeeded in touching him (i.e. proceed with seducing him), so Gilbert decided that was his good deed for the day. Gilbert took a deep breath and focused on looking into Matthew's eyes. Only his eyes. "You're right, and I'm sorry. I had another unawesome dream last night. I actually wanted to talk to you about them today…"

Matthew looked torn between concern and subdued excitement, then settled on concern. "Really?"

"…After I used the bathroom and got dressed."

Matthew remembered his state of undress in that moment. He went red then said while turning towards his room, "Right! I'll leave you to that, eh?"

Gilbert didn't know whether he should kick or congratulate himself for not watching Matthew walk away.

* * *

Matthew was already cooking the pancakes when Gilbert emerged from his room, dressed and more than a little apprehensive. He would admit to taking longer than needed to get dressed, actually looking at himself in the mirror before leaving the room. _Will he want to start talking immediately, over breakfast? What is he going to say? Gott, I hate that this is necessary._

Matthew heard the quiet slapping of Gilbert's feet as he entered the kitchen and turned briefly to give him welcoming smile before focusing on the pancakes. "Breakfast will be ready in about 5 minutes, okay? Can you pour me a glass of apple juice and get something for yourself while you're at it?"

Gilbert blinked in hesitation, and then moved to the refrigerator. He was expecting something else, so used to dealing with his brother's straightforward nature and the bluntness of his friends. Removing the bottle of juice that Matthew requested, Gilbert closed the door, remembering with a slight smile Matthew's aversion to open refrigerator doors. _I suppose that Birdie is just a bit…different._

Still, Gilbert was waiting for an interrogation, a question, hell, an acknowledgement that Gilbert had promised to talk to Matthew at all. Matthew just kept making pancakes in his customary loose jeans and sweatshirt, humming quietly to himself a tune that Gilbert didn't recognize. After about a minute, Gilbert began to relax a bit, pouring the apple juice and getting water from the tap for himself. Replacing the apple juice, Gilbert asked, "Do you need me to do anything else?"

"Um, could you set the table, please?"

"Sure, Birdie." Matthew smiled slightly to himself at the nickname. A tension that he didn't know existed relaxed in him at the sound of it. It reassured him that Gilbert was still okay with him, that there was (hopefully) going to be no awkwardness after this morning or last night. Who would have thought that one name would come to mean so much to him in the span of two days?

"Do you know where everything is?"

"Ja. I've been here long enough to know where everything is, Birdie."

Matthew chuckled then made a gesture of surrender. "I'm just asking, Gil."

Breakfast proceeded as usual; with Matthew gaining amusement and pleasure from seeing Gilbert enjoy his cooking and the pair chatting about nothing in particular. It wasn't until they began to clean up (okay, Matthew was cleaning while Gilbert was mostly in the way) the kitchen that Gilbert finally felt comfortable enough to say. "Thank you, Matthew."

Matthew looked up, startled by the seriousness of Gilbert's tone and the use of his full first name. With wide eyes, Matthew said, "For what, Gil?"

"For giving me the time I needed before telling you about what's been bothering me."

_Well, that was an abrupt change_ , Matthew thought before dropping the pan he was washing in the sink and giving Gilbert his full attention. "It was no problem. I don't want to make you uncomfortable and push you into something you're not ready for. If you wanted, we could not talk at all. I-" Matthew paused. "I want you to trust me, Gil. I want you to trust me enough to talk about your problems with me without being forced to just because you said you would. You're my friend and I'm here for you when you need me."

Gilbert just looked at Matthew for a minute, considering the now blushing Canadian. That might have been the most Matthew had said at once to him, after that first night, but he wasn't sure. It was clear that this was something important to Matthew, which gave Gilbert the pleasure of telling Matthew the truth. "I trust you."

Matthew, who had looked at the ground in shyness for most of his speech, looked up and locked eyes with Gilbert in that moment. Something passed between them that was unspoken and profound. It was a connection of mutual trust and reassurances. Matthew and Gilbert just stared at each other for several long moments before returning to their previous tasks. They both knew that something had changed and couldn't help silently rejoicing.

* * *

Once the kitchen was clean and Matthew fed Maple Leaf, Gilbert led him into the living room. Sitting on the sectional couch, Gilbert waited until Matthew was seated on the section adjacent to his own before finally breaking the silence between them. Taking a deep breath, Gilbert said, "Do you know why I came here, Birdie?"

It was a rhetorical question, but Matthew answered it anyway. "No, I don't."

"I came here to run away."

Matthew waited for something else to follow that sentence, but the silenced stretched as Gilbert stared at the wall without really seeing it. "Gil, I told you; we don't have to talk about this now if you aren't ready."

Gilbert shook his head. "No, Birdie. I need to tell you this. You deserve to know."

Matthew wanted to ask why but kept quiet. Gilbert continued, "Last week, I tried to tell the man I thought I loved for centuries what I felt. I was… unawesomely rejected. Actually, it was cruel in the way he did it. I never actually got to say anything before everything I thought I wanted was thrown in my face."

Matthew swallowed as Gilbert paused. He didn't know what to say. What does one say in situations like this? He didn't know what he felt. It was Gilbert's pain, but then why did Matthew's heart hurt? "I'm sorry, Gil." Then curiosity overcame Matthew and he couldn't control himself for a moment. "What did he say, if you don't mind telling me?"

Gilbert smiled bitterly. "No, I don't mind. He said that…I disgusted him, was below his standards and should have disappeared with my nation in 1947. He also…called me some choice names."

"Like what, may I ask?" The request was calm and polite, different from the concern filled tone from before. Gilbert frowned but didn't look up.

"He called me a… f-freak of nature."

"Who called you that?" Gilbert looked at Matthew, startled by the cold animosity in his voice. There was a spark of confrontation to Matthew's eyes, turning them that unique purple that Gilbert was coming to love and fear. While it thrilled Gilbert that Matthew had gotten angry on his behalf, the coldness of Matthew's anger was disconcerting. Gilbert hadn't known Matthew to be capable of it.

"Birdie?"

Matthew calmed down, remembering that Gilbert needed his comforting. A microscopic portion of his brain offered the idea that this unknown man's head on a plate would be comforting, but Matthew ignored it…for now. In his normal, but concerned tone, Matthew replied, "I'm sorry, Gil. I don't know what came over me but-" Matthew wanted to say more, to be more comforting, but he didn't know how. At a loss, he said, "Please continue."

Gilbert reassured himself that Matthew was indeed alright and back to his normal self he said, "After that, I left his house and went home. For some reason, he called my brother, probably about the mess I left at his house or something, and told him about what happened. By the time I got home that night, my brother was going to force me to talk. He even took away my beer stash in an attempt to get me out of my room. I wasn't ready to talk about what happened or how I felt then, so I ran." Gilbert winced at his behavior. "Kind of the coward's thing to do now that I think about it."

"You had every right not to want to talk about your feelings before you were ready, Gil. So your method of avoidance was a little…extreme. There's nothing wrong with that. But, if I may ask, why did you come here? I know you have other friends who would have been able to help you hide, if you asked."

"I, um, well."

"What?"

"Gilbird actually chose to come here."

"…Excuse me?"

"I didn't want to go to any of my other friends because they are either happily in a relationship or would have made me talk. And they would likely hand me back to my brother. He's a little intimidating when provoked. I asked Gilbird where he wanted to go and Gilbird perched on this globe I have in my room back home and pecked Canada. That was how I chose my destination."

"So you didn't think 'where can I go to disappear' and think of me, the Nation who is literally said to disappear?"

Gilbert opened his mouth to say no then hesitated. "Is this a trick question?"

Matthew sighed and said, "No, it isn't, but it doesn't really matter."

Gilbert felt like somewhere this conversation had gone wrong and scrambled to fix it. "But I'm really happy Gilbird chose the awesome Canada to visit. I mean, if he hadn't, I wouldn't have met you and that really would have been unawesome because you're my friend now and-" Rubbing the back of his neck, Gilbert cut himself off before he could say more that really didn't need to be said.

"Don't worry about it, Gil." Pause. "And I'm glad you came here, too." Suddenly inspired, Matthew stood up and moved towards Gilbert.

"Birdie, what-" Gilbert stopped talking as Matthew sat down next to him and hugged him. When Gilbert didn't move, Matthew said,

"I don't have a lot of experience in giving comfort, but I think this is what I'm supposed to do, right?"

Reacting a little late, Gilbert laid his head on Matthew's shoulder and nodded as he hugged him back. Matthew continued. "Let me say that this man is an absolute hoser and you're too good for him, not the other way around. You are not a freak of nature. You are Gilbert Beilschmidt, representative and personification of the former Teutonic Order, Kingdom of Prussia, and German Democratic Republic and that is all you will ever need to be to stay awesome, alright?" No answer. "Gilbert, that was not a rhetorical question. Do you understand me?"

Gilbert fought the burning at the back of his eyes and hugged Matthew tighter as he nodded. No one had called him awesome and meant it since the First World War. And then, he had an empire, power. Now he was… nothing, no one, without any purpose. When fellow nations called him awesome now, it was in mockery. Matthew was the first person who said it since the days when he was important and didn't make him feel like a waste of space. He appreciated Matthew more than he thought possible in that moment, just from the use of that one little adjective.

Matthew noticed that Gilbert was shaking. Not crying, just shaking. Matthew didn't know what to do yet again. He wanted to look at the man's face, but it was buried in his shoulder. At a loss, Matthew just sat there giving what comfort he could until Gilbert regained control of himself. "Thank you, Birdie."

"It's no problem, Gil. I'm here for you. I'm happy that you feel comfortable enough with me to share this and I will happily wipe that bastard off the map for you if you wanted…" When Gilbert didn't enthusiastically agree to this Matthew sighed internally and continued. "I'm assuming that this has affected your dreams?"

"…You could say that." Long pause as Matthew looked at Gilbert expectantly while Gilbert tried to figure out a way to talk about them without going into details. "First, before I tell you about them, I want your promise that you will not kill, maim or torture the man, nor ask/pay someone else to do it before I tell you his name. Otherwise the dream won't make sense."

The small, psycho part of Matthew's brain (which was significantly smaller than Antonio's, mind) was disappointed at how comprehensive the stipulation was but the rest of the nation was a little offended. "Gil, I promise not to do any of those things. I'm actually really shocked that you felt you had to get my word before telling me."

"I'm sorry, Birdie. I didn't mean to offend you, but the look in your eyes that I saw earlier reminded me of Antonio on a bad day 500 years ago. I thought it wise to think ahead."

"Alright..." A thought occurred to Matthew. "Gil, did you happen to ask your friends not to harm this guy on your journey out of Europe?"

Gilbert paled, which was interesting to see. "No, I didn't."

"Well, your brother has an even head on his shoulders and is quite peaceful nowadays, so I doubt he would do anything. It's Francis, Antonio and Alistair I would worry about…unless this asshole is one of them…"

"No," Gilbert said distractedly. "It's Roderich."

One could have heard a pin drop in the room. Matthew stared at Gilbert in shock for a moment. _Roderich?_ Matthew thought. _Austria?_ That's _the kind of guy Gilbert likes, stuck-up aristocrats who rather play music than actually be around others or go to a hockey game or- What am I thinking? Of course Gilbert would want Roderich. He actually has a presence and is refined and dignified. Of course that's what Gilbert wants. Why does that bother me so much?_

"Birdie?" Gilbert waved his hand in front of Matthew's unfocused eyes, making the other man aware once more.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Gil. What were you saying?"

"I didn't say anything but you began to look a bit distressed."

Matthew waved his hand in an oddly feminine gesture as if to bat away the observation. "Never mind about me. So, Roderich, eh?" _Why him?_ "Now I know for a fact just how much _you_ are out of _his_ league. So, what happened in your dream?"

Gilbert didn't trust Matthew's dismissal of something that clearly was bothering him, but answered anyway. "In one dream, it's like a reversal of history. It takes place during the War of Austrian Succession and, at the end of a battle I won, Specs overpowers and kills me after telling me how pathetic I am. The other one… I don't want to talk about."

"Specs," Matthew said, testing the nickname on his tongue. It tasted bitter.

"It's a name I gave him a long time ago." When Matthew made a small noise with his throat, Gilbert continued. "The reason I was acting so weird after these dreams is that it's a little jarring to be touched after a dream where the last touch you received is the one that killed you."

"… I don't know what I can say to make you feel better and help keep these dreams from reoccurring but that you are not pathetic and Roderich does not deserve you." After a moment, Matthew said, "Is there anything else you wanted to tell me?"

Gilbert thought about it and said, "Not really."

Matthew hesitated before saying this, knowing that it could very well send Gilbert away faster than necessary, but it needed to be done. "Gil, I think you need to call Ludwig, just to let him know you're not lying in a ditch somewhere, ok?"

Gilbert winced. "Birdie, I'm really not ready to talk about my feelings with my brother yet."

Matthew noticed that Gilbert hadn't really talked about his feelings with him, either. It was kind of just a cursory report of what happened, but Matthew would take anything Gilbert was willing to give. "Gil, I'm not asking you to tell him anything other than the fact that you are okay. You can even block your number to disguise the country code if you like."

"…That sounds reasonable. Thanks, Birdie. For everything."

They both stood up as Matthew went in search of the home phone and Gilbert headed to the kitchen for a cup of water. Before they left ways, something occurred to Matthew. "Gil, can I ask you one question?"

Gilbert was a little wary but said, "Sure."

"When we first started talking, you said that you _thought_ you loved him for centuries and that he blew everything you _thought_ you wanted to pieces. Does that mean you don't, didn't actually love or want him?"

Gilbert stared at Matthew. He had been unaware of those little slip ups before in the conversation. Now he didn't know exactly how to answer Matthew's question. "I don't know, Birdie. After wanting Specs for so long, all I felt when I looked at him was a kind of chronic loss. I don't know if that's love or not. I thought it was but now I'm not sure."

Matthew wanted to ask what made him reconsider but stuck to his one question. Nodding, Matthew said, "I may not know much from experience, but I don't think love is supposed to primarily be loss. It's supposed to be wonderful and difficult, but not only loss. I'll go get the phone for you."

Gilbert stared at the space where Matthew stood for a few moments then when to the kitchen. Their conversation had not been what Gilbert had wanted, but at least Matthew knew why he was here. With that out of the way, Gilbert had other things to worry about, like what he was going to say to his brother and how he would ask Matthew if he liked men, too. But in the back of his mind, the thought that he never really loved Roderich was hidden away for later consideration. For now, he had other things to do.


	13. Chapter 12: European Intermission

Apprehension coursed through Ludwig automatically at the sound of his ringing phone. While he doubted that there were any pressing problems or emergencies (Feliciano was downstairs and couldn't very well get in much trouble from there and Ludwig didn't feel any of the characteristic uneasiness that was associated with any revolts around his country), he couldn't help but be wary of the device. He had come to have a love-hate relationship with all telephones during the War. While the ringing meant that he would be there for North Italy when he was needed, it also was almost always the bearer of bad news.

So Ludwig stared at his cell phone for a moment before reaching for it with a long suffering sigh. He looked longingly at the paperwork in front of him on his desk. Unlike the people who communicated with phones, paperwork never surprised him. "Hallo?"

"Hallo, West."

Ludwig started to attention in his office chair, causing the comfortable leather to sigh from the movement. "Brother?"

"Ja, of course it's awesome me. Who else calls you 'West'?" Of course, all of this was said in German, giving Ludwig no clue as to where Gilbert might be. He looked at the screen of his phone, only to see that the number was blocked.

There were many things that Ludwig wanted to ask. _Where are you? Are you okay? When will you be back home?_ He didn't realize until that moment just how much he missed his obnoxious older brother and just how much his absence worried him. The last time Prussia went any length of time without communicating in some way with Germany when he was away from home was during the Cold War. Since the fall of the Wall, Gilbert made a point of communicating with Ludwig every day, even when he was so drunk he mixed up his languages in unintelligible sentences (an alarmingly frequent occurrence in the '90s). Even though Gilbert's texts and calls were often bothersome to Ludwig in the moment, they also reassured him that his brother was still there. After the dissolution of Prussia while Gilbert was living in Ivan's house, Ludwig had come to appreciate his brother's presence more than ever. Perhaps their separation had given them both Germany and Prussia a brother complex that was more… discrete than the Italian one.

"West?"

"Ja, I'm here." It was all Ludwig could say. The questions that he wanted to ask were stuck in his throat so all he was left with was an inconsequential statement.

"Haha. Well, I just had the awesome urge to tell you that I'm still alive and kicking."

"Danke."

There was a silence as the brothers thought of what to say to each other. Gilbert tried to figure out how to phrase his next question without giving away too much information as to his emotional state or who prompted him to call his brother. Ludwig tried to work past his general difficulty with emotional displays (something he had only gradually gotten over with Feliciano) enough to tell his brother that he was worried about him. Gilbert broke the silence first.

"West, did you tell anyone else about my… vacation? Because if you did, you might want to ask them not to kill Specs for me."

"First of all, you don't work in the first place, so how is this possibly a vacation? I would call it more of an escape from dealing with your emotional problems. Ja, I know you're not with Spain. Second, what did Roderich say or do to make someone want to kill him?"

A brief pause during which Gilbert thought, _Really, West? You're going to talk to_ me _about avoiding emotional problems? I learned it from you, dear brother._ But there were more pressing issues in Gilbert's head than pointing out his brother's hypocrisy. Gilbert knew that his brother loved him deep down, so the fact that he saw nothing wrong with what happened between him and Roderich told him something. If it was enough to upset (usually) gentle Mathew, then surely his scary-ass brother would be just as pissed on Gilbert's behalf. Unless… "So you don't know?"

A hesitation. "Whatever I don't know, it's because you didn't tell me, bruder."

"If maybe you had respected my decision to not want to talk in the first place by, you know, not trying to trap me by _taking away my beer_ , I would have talked to you about this by now, but you just had to unawesomelly push the issue."

"So you left like a thief in the night because I took away your _beer_!?" Ludwig was shouting at this point, knowing that this was not the appropriate emotional response but anger was one of the only emotions he could easily express. If your only tool is a hammer…

"West, that is not the point and you know it! If you had just-" Prussia cut himself off and Germany heard a faint whisper in the background. Germany couldn't place the soft sound but it had managed to calm down his brother. With a resigned voice, Prussia continued. "I didn't call to fight, West. I really just wanted to let you know that I'm alright and to ask you to tell anyone who knows about what happened to not kill Specs. If you've talked to Tony, then he should be the person that you tell first. That's all."

Ludwig hesitated, calmed by his brother's tone. With his anger abated, he was left with worry. "But are you, bruder?"

"Am I what?"

"Alright?"

"…I think so, West. I really do. I have to go. Say hi to Feli for me." Gilbert hung up.

Ludwig pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at it, unaware of the man watching him from the doorway.

"Are you okay, Luddy?"

An ice blue gaze met familiar, barely visible gold eyes in surprise. "Oh, Feliciano. I thought you were downstairs."

"I was but then I heard yelling and I wanted to check on you. Ve~ are you okay?"

"Ja, I'm fine. I'm just… worried about Gilbert. He says, hi, by the way."

Feliciano walked across the well organized office to reach Ludwig who scooted his chair back just in time to have an Italian plop in his lap. Italy then cuddled himself against his massive partner, giving the other the comfort of his closeness. "What did Gilbert have to say?"

Ludwig wrapped his arms around Feliciano. How could he not? He inhaled the slight garlic scent of Feliciano's hair and something eased inside him. "Just that he was alive and that he wanted me to call Spain about something. It sounded like he was with someone."

Feliciano frowned up at Ludwig with a confused expression, making his eyes shut all the way in contrast to the slits they were constantly in. "But if Gilbert wanted to talk to Big Brother Spain, why didn't he just call him?"

"I think he is avoiding him, too. Or, he's just lazy."

Feliciano wiggled a little and when Ludwig opened his arms again his partner stood up. "Ve~ if Gilbert is with someone then you shouldn't worry too much, Luddy. Gilbert's not alone like you thought he was."

"I suppose so but I would still like to know who…"

"Maybe Big Brother Spain will have an idea. Now come on, Luddy. Dinner's ready and we can't let the pasta get cold!"

* * *

It was eleven that night when the phone rang in Madrid. Antonio had been receiving calls since eight that morning and was all out of patience and good cheer.

"For the last fucking time, Sadiq, no matter what he-"

"Antonio?"

"…Ludwig?"

"…Is this a bad time?"

Antonio laughed nervously for a second. "No. Lo siento, I've just been receiving some disturbing calls from Turkey and it has me on edge. What's wrong?"

Ludwig sighed but answered. "I heard from Gilbert today. He-"

"What! Where is he? What is he doing? Is he okay? Is he with someone? Who is-"

"He wouldn't answer a lot of my questions," Ludwig continued, slightly annoyed by the Spaniard's enthusiasm and his frustration with being unable to answer most of the questions. "He said that he just wanted to let me know that he was alright."

"How considerate of him."

Ludwig didn't know if Antonio was being sarcastic or not, so he pushed on. "Gilbert also said something about asking you not to kill Roderich. I was wondering if maybe you could explain that to me…"

"…I forgot that you didn't know."

"That I didn't know what?!" Ludwig was sick of being out of this loop and wanted in. Now.

Antonio's dark side, frighteningly close to the surface after dealing with Turkey without resolving anything all day, whispered a wonderful idea through his head. Both of his natures agreed that Roderich got off too easily. Sure, maybe Gilbert didn't really love Roderich but that still didn't mean the Austrian to get off scot free. _Ooooh. Maybe he should be invited to the party, too,_ Antonio thought. "You know, I think its best that you ask Roderich what exactly was said in person. It might also be a good idea to take Scotland with you. I doubt that Gilbert told him the whole story. I would leave Feli at home, though."

"…I feel like this is a set up. What were you doing over Roderich's house?"

"Francis and I are looking for Gilbert, Ludwig. We're his friends and we will be there for him even when he doesn't want us there. But enough about that. I really think you should go to see Roderich with Alistair. My other line is beeping. Bye, Ludwig!"

Spain hung up and smiled evilly before turning to the staircase. Now that his darker side had come out to play, he might as well have a little fun.

* * *

Francis groaned at the sound of the phone ringing. Not bothering to open his eyes, France groped around the bedspread for the offending item. He was up late last night doing… the questionable things that France does at night. Unlike many of the European nations, he was not tied down by one partner. As long as he didn't hang around the couples too much, he could scoff at the idea of monogamy. It was only during the times like world meetings when he felt like something was missing. But that was neither here nor there.

Answering the phone without looking, Francis mumbled, "'ello?"

"Good morning, Francis!" It was Antonio and he sounded _way_ too happy for (Francis looked at his phone) nine in the morning. "Do you mind if we start looking for Gilbert again tomorrow? Ludwig called me last night and said-"

"Hold on a second, mon ami. First, answer me this: what has you in such a wonderful mood. When I talked to you yesterday, you were quite out of sorts."

"Yeah, I was a little upset." Antonio chuckled a little. "Lovi drunk dialed Sadiq the night before last and apparently said a couple of things that convinced that asshole that he needed to save Lovi from an unhappy life with me. So I had to deal with his threats and taunting calls all day. By the time Ludwig called, I was in a bad way. But I'm all better now!"

Francis, now fully awake, was almost afraid to ask but curiosity and all… "And what did you do to make yourself feel better?"

"I just let Sadiq know that Lovi is _very_ happy with me and showed Lovi just how _mine_ he is."

Francis was intrigued. " _Go on_. And how did you do that, mon ami?"

"Well, I tied Lovi to the bed and fucked him senseless until he was begging for me to come then called Sadiq right when he came shouting my name, of course."

"…of course."

"Ah, it's been a while since I let myself go like that. So now I'm making Lovi breakfast. He can't exactly walk, so I'm catering to him today, but I'll be ready to start looking for Gilbert again tomorrow."

 _Well,_ Francis thought, _th_ _at is one way to preoccupy Antonio, Romano. Bravo!_ "Right… you mentioned something about Ludwig calling."

"Yep, he talked to Gilbert and said that Gilbert asked him to tell me not to kill Roderich. I told Ludwig that he should take Alistair and go talk to Roderich himself."

Francis shot to an upright sitting position. "You did what?"

"I said that I-"

"Non, mon ami, I heard what you said but… I have to go. Take care of your Italian and we can resume our search tomorrow. Au revoir."

Francis hung up the phone and checked his recent calls. Sure enough, he had missed two calls from Germany that came in around 11:30 the night before. At that time, Francis was… otherwise engaged. Hurriedly, Francis dialed Germany who he knew would be up and dressed by this time. It didn't take long for the Central European nation to answer,

"Hallo?"

"Bonjour, Ludwig. This is Francis."

"Gut morgen, Francis. I assume that you are returning my calls."

"Oui. Antonio mentioned that you had talked to Gilbert…"

"Ah, yes, but he did not mention where he was or who he was with. He was clearly with someone, however. What I am more interested in at this moment is what exactly Roderich said to Gilbert that prompted him to break his silence to ask that no one kill the man."

"…While it is true that Austria said some harsh things-"

"What did he say, Francis?"

"-the most important piece of information that I gained from taking to Roderich was that Gilbert did not really love him."

There was a moment of silence as Ludwig tried to wrap his head around this deduction. "Explain."

"Can't you just take my word for it? I am the country of love so I just know these things!"

"Is that your polite way of saying that I wouldn't understand even if you told me?"

"If you want to be blunt, oui."

"Tell me anyway, France."

Francis sighed and said, "Gilbert never showed his true self to Roderich."

"…And."

"See! You do not understand."

Ludwig could see that this conversation could quickly raise his blood pressure so he moved on. "Tell me what Roderich told Gilbert. I was only told that Roderich did not return Gilbert's affections when offered, but not about the manner in which it was done. So either you tell me what happened or I will follow Antonio's advice."

Francis knew that the only three people that Ludwig truly cared for were Feliciano, Gilbert and Kiku. When he learned the truth… perhaps it would be better to hear it from him rather than for Roderich to be present when Ludwig found out. "Well, the short version is that Roderich, after trying to physically harm Gilbert, told him that he was scum and that Roderich wished Gilbert died after the War."

"Danke for telling me, Francis. Have a good day."

"Good bye, Ludwig."

 _The conversation ended civilly enough_ , thought Francis. _Here's to hoping that he doesn't tell Alistair and that Roderich survives the week relatively unharmed._ Francis had done all that he could to help. With that good deed done for the day, he returned back to his beauty sleep.

* * *

Germany calmly got up from his desk and went into the master bedroom. North Italy blinked his eyes groggily opened and noticed Germany at the closet. "Luddy? What are you doing? You're already dressed…" He noticed the leather holster that Germany pulled out of the closet and opened his eyes fully in alarm. "Ve~ Luddy, why do you need your gun?"

"Don't worry about it, Feliciano. I'm not going to kill anyone."

Feliciano forced himself out of bed and rushed over to hug Ludwig from behind. "Please don't wear your gun. It scares me," ( _And everybody else_ , he thought), "when you do. What happened? Why do you want to hurt someone, Luddy?"

"Feliciano, what would you do if someone hurt Romano?"

Feliciano hugged Ludwig tighter in fear. "I don't know what I would do. Big Brother Spain won't let anyone hurt Romano and if they did, I doubt that there would be much left after he was done with them. But maybe I would take care of Romano and then maybe get revenge?"

"Feliciano, what would you do for Romano if there was no Spain?"

"What! Where's Big Brother-"

"No, what I mean is that what if Spain wasn't there to avenge Romano first? What would you do then?"

Feliciano let go of Ludwig then stepped back slowly to look at his lover with serious eyes. In this rare moment of insight, he said, "In a different time, I would have avenged him myself. But this is not a different time, Luddy. We can no longer seek revenge on others like we used to." Ludwig looked at Italy's oh so serious face and nodded. He turned to put away his gun when Italy asked, "Who hurt Gilbert?"

"Roderich."

"…You know, mi amor, there are ways of gaining revenge that do not involve your gun."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just in case you were wondering, Lovino was not actually drunk when he called Sadiq.


	14. Chapter 13: Answers

Matthew was not eavesdropping on Gilbert's phone call to his brother. Really, he wasn't. It wasn't like he could _understand_ the rapid bursts of German coming from the next room. He was just concerned that the phone call might upset Gilbert. As Gilbert's friend, Matthew should be there for him when he was needed, right? As Gilbert's voice rose to a shouting level about a minute into the call Matthew felt his proximity was justified.

Gilbert cut himself off at the sight of Matthew's hurried entrance into the kitchen. In the split second of quiet, Matthew said, "Gil, you don't want to fight with your brother. Remember why you called, okay?"

Gilbert just nodded at Matthew as he continued his conversation in a much calmer tone. Matthew didn't leave the room this time, instead waiting for Gilbert to end his conversation about 30 seconds later. "How did it go?"

Gilbert sighed and ran a hand through his messy hair. "It could have gone better. West is more worried than I thought he would be. He doesn't exactly know how to handle being worried so he goes for angry instead."

Matthew smiled a little to himself. "Your brother loves you, Gil. Of course he would be worried if you just disappeared on him." _It's more than I could say about Alfred_ , he thought to himself.

"I guess, Birdie." Setting the phone down on the top of the couch, Gilbert made a point to change the topic. Stretching out a tricep just for something to do, he said, "So, we've talked enough today. What are we actually going to _do_?"

Matthew's lips quirked into a lopsided smile at Gilbert's obvious attempt to change the subject. "Well, I have nothing planned for today. But maybe I could show you around town…?"

"That sounds like an awesome idea. That way when my bike gets here I'll know where I'm going."

"…Right," Matthew said, biting his lip. He had almost forgotten that Gilbert would be able to get around without him soon enough. Familiar insecurities crept up on him but he gave them a forceful mental push away, focusing on the here and now. "Do you have any idea what you want to do or see?"

_Well now that you mention it, I would like to see you upstairs, in bed, and then do something about it,_ Gilbert thought. He wisely kept that thought to himself. He had no idea why he was so horny but, then again, it had been a long time since… "Umm, why don't you show me your favorite parts of the city?"

"I'd love to."

* * *

There was a peaceful silence between Matthew and Gilbert as they walked through Ireland Park. Gilbert gazed at the realistic faces on one of the park's many statues, appreciating the haunting beauty of it with part of his mind. After having seen so many battlefields, he had learned to appreciate what humans can create after seeing just how much they could destroy. It made him love the art that showed the human capacity for survival and perseverance. Gilbert wondered if Matthew shared his sentiments.

No matter how arresting the statues were against the backdrop of downtown Toronto, part of Gilbert's mind was spinning. His thoughts jumped between the idea that he had never really loved Roderich and figuring out a polite way to ask Matthew if he preferred fucking women or men. He hadn't really gotten far on either question.

First off, what did it mean if he hadn't really loved Roderich? Sure, Gilbert had noticed that the relationship between the two of them never looked like the one between Ludwig and Feliciano… or Kiku and Herakles… or, hell, Lovino and Antonio. Those couples always had an unspoken connection between them that made it clear to outsiders that they were together. Hell, Gilbert knew before his brother that Ludwig was in love with Feliciano… although that probably wasn't the best example (damn near half the world knew that they were together before Ludwig got it through his thick skull). Gilbert thought that he was more emotionally savvy than to be in a situation where he was unsure if he had loved someone for _centuries_. But if what he was beginning to feel for Matthew was anything like what love should be like, he had been sorely mistaken.

The realization threw his world on its side. His 'love' for Austria had been his one constant through centuries of change. With the surety of it gone, his understanding of the past seemed shaky.

Matthew began to stroll on through the park and Gilbert followed him, turning his mental eye on the Canadian. One thing he was sure about now was that he wanted to be more than friends with Matthew. _Maybe I should just focus on the present and future and move on from the past_ , he thought. Because Roderich was his past and Matthew just might be his future. Now he just had a question to ask.

Matthew had noticed that Gilbert was deep in thought about something as he stared at the lamenting face of one statue a while ago. Matthew was never one to break silences, especially when it could interrupt the other person's thought processes. It had happened too many times to him when Alfred suddenly burst in his house for Matthew to dream of doing the same to Gilbert. He knew that Prussia had a lot to think about and was happy to let the man think. His mere presence was just enough to thrill Matthew. Whenever he had come to Ireland Park to get out of his house, he was alone. He had been resigned to his solitude and had almost come to peace with it. With Gilbert here, even when they weren't talking, it was enough for Matthew.

No matter how grateful Matthew was for Gilbert's company, the former nation posed a problem. Matthew was not oblivious to his own feelings. He knew that he stared at Gilbert in a way that no friend should. He knew that he was too emotionally attached to Gilbert's reactions and that, after some consideration, his reaction to the news of Gilbert's centuries' long fixation on Roderich was pure jealousy. (He even did admitted to himself that part of his anger towards Austria was that he rejected the man Matthew would thrilled to have as his own.) If the circumstances were different, he would be rejoicing that he _finally_ showed interest in someone. Okay, there was that momentary crush on Carlos, but that quickly died out because he kept mistaking Matthew for Alfred and if _that_ wasn't a turn off…

But Gilbert was just coming from a major heartbreak. He wouldn't talk about his feelings but it was clear that what happened with Roderich was troubling. Hell, being told that you were worthless and better off dead by the object of your affection would be scarring for anyone. As it was, Matthew would be happy to find a way to help Gilbert through this difficult time, but was wary acting on his budding feelings. This was not the time for Gilbert to be going into a major relationship. Matthew would just end up being used like a tissue to get Roderich out of Gilbert's system then would be thrown away without a thought, a constant reminder of what Gilbert went through. Matthew would end up alone again, after having tasted what friendship and an actual _romantic_ relationship was. He didn't know if he would be able to handle it. Of course, if Gilbert initiated something, Matthew didn't know if he would be able to say no. Loneliness had eaten at his being for too long and maybe having a small bit of happiness was better than never having it at all. And this was all assuming that Gilbert would even want him! It was all too confusing, but Matthew tried to make sense of it.

When Gilbert looked at Matthew, he saw that the man had gnawed his lip to the point of bleeding. "Birdie, stop!"

Matthew startled and looked at Gilbert in confusion. He opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, only to wince at the pain of his bottom lip. Finally tasting the copper of his own blood, Matthew touched a finger to his mouth and looked at the red stain on the digit when it was pulled back. Then he said, "Ow."

Gilbert was naturally alarmed. "Ow? That's all you have to say? Ow!" He looked around for a building for restrooms frantically, wanting to get some paper towels to stop the bleeding. Spotting one, he grabbed Matthew's hand and dragged the Canadian to the building at a quick pace without another word.

"I guess," Matthew mumbled. He licked his lip, coming away with only a little blood. The cut was a small one, nothing to really be alarmed about. Yet Gilbert was treating this like he had half bit his lip off. "Calm down, Gil. I'm okay."

Gilbert made a sound of disbelief as they reached the bathrooms. He sat Matthew down on a bench near the entrance and ran in to get a paper towel. He returned in less than thirty seconds. Crouching in front of Matthew, with more gentleness than the Canadian thought possible, Gilbert dabbed Matthew's lower lip. He had a look of great concentration on his face, like what he was doing was brain surgery instead of tending to a small cut. Then in a quiet, worried voice, he asked, "Birdie, what has so troubled that you didn't realize you bled yourself?"

Matthew looked into the so concerned crimson eyes in front of him and couldn't stop himself from asking, "Gil, which is worse: having been in paradise and lost it or never having seen it at all?"

"What brought this on?" Gilbert paused in his ministrations to search Matthew's eyes like they would have the answer, only to have the Canadian look down.

"Please answer my question."

Gilbert opened his mouth to demand that Matthew tell him what was wrong only to shut his mouth again. Matthew respected his privacy and comfort limits earlier that morning. Gilbert found that he could do no less, no matter how distressed he was with Matthew's behavior. So, Gilbert continued to doctor as best he could Matthew's lip and said, "From someone who had everything and then lost it, it's better to see paradise. Despite all the blood, sweat, and tears it took for me to reach my height, I wouldn't give up that time for anything. My power gave me the strength to do what I needed to give my brother the life he deserved. While I don't have much now, I'm happy that I took all those risks."

Matthew looked at Gilbert again, as if he was trying to assess the truth of his statement, only to find Gilbert's face open and honest. It was then that Gilbert continued. "But you know, Birdie, paradise doesn't always have to end." Matthew's lip had stopped bleeding so Gilbert got up to dispose of the towels. Matthew stared after him as he walked a few meters to the nearest trash bin. In that moment, he decided that if the occasion came up, he would take the chance on relationship with Gilbert. Even if it meant that he would lose everything later, he would at least try.

Gilbert turned back to Matthew just in time to see determination flash through those dark blue eyes. He didn't know what that meant but he walked back to the Canadian. Matthew stood up as Gilbert approached and said, "Sorry about that, Gil. I just was thinking too hard. Would you like to get some lunch now?"

Gilbert narrowed his eyes at Matthew's quick change in demeanor but nodded. When Matthew turned in the direction of the parking lot and began to walk away, Gilbert grabbed his arm, halting him. "Birdie, don't want this to be a one sided thing. I'm here if you need to talk, okay? Always."

Matthew looked back at Gilbert and wanted to ask, _Do you really mean that? Always?_ But he just said, "Thanks, Gil. If I want to talk, you'll be the first to know, okay?"

_What's bothering you? Is it about the hockey game the other night? Is it about what happened last night? This morning? Can I help? Am I the problem?_ These questions ran through Gilbert's mind in quick succession but Prussia just nodded and stepped back. "What did you have in mind?"

"Someplace that I think you will like."

* * *

"I think I love you."

Gilbert was appalled at himself. The sentence had just popped out as they left the microbrewery where they had had lunch. Gilbert was now full of good beer and food and it made him a little less careful than usual. It wasn't true, of course, couldn't be true, but that didn't mean he wanted to go blurting out statements like that with the future of their relationship a big question mark.

Matthew, however, just laughed it off, taking the statement as gratitude rather an actual confession. "I'm happy you liked the place."

Gilbert chuckled awkwardly to himself and said, "So! After that awesome lunch, what are we going to do now?"

"…How good are you with crowds?"

"…That's an odd question. I'm decent. I lose patience fast but I'm doing fine now." Gilbert gestured to the somewhat busy street scene before them. Toronto was a lively city and the foot traffic on a Sunday afternoon was no joke.

"This is nothing. I mean really big crowds."

"I'll be fine wherever we go. Where were you thinking?"

Matthew went to bite his lip only to wince as his teeth caught on his almost healed cut. (Nations healed fast but it wasn't instantaneous.) "Have you ever been to Niagara Falls?"

Gilbert's eyes got wide. "No, but I feel like that should be fixed. Immediately."

Matthew couldn't help laughing again. "Alright, alright. Calm yourself, we can go."

In a moment of childlike abandon, Gilbert fist pumped the air saying, "Awesome!"

Matthew just smiled. Seeing Gilbert so free with his excitement after this morning was just what he needed to get over the slump he felt in the park.

As Gilbert and Matthew headed back to the car, Gilbert asked a bunch questions about the Falls that Matthew happily answered with calm amusement. Right after Matthew warned Gilbert about American tourists (seriously, though, watch out!), he noticed that Gilbert's face had lost its excitement and had become more considering. As they got in Matthew's car, the Canadian asked, "Gil, is there something wrong?"

Gilbert had caught sight of a couple, two men, walking hand and hand down the street a moment before and it reminded him of the answer he still needed from Matthew. Taking a deep breath to fortify himself, he finally began, "Hey, Birdie?"

"Yes?"

"What's your stance on homosexuality?"

Matthew decided that he would have to check himself later for whiplash, the topic changed so fast. "Where is this coming from?"

Gilbert rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Well, I just saw a couple walking past and remembered your lack of response to me telling you I like guys last night. It kind of stuck in my mind so I thought I would ask."

"Well, my country recognizes same-sex marriages. Personally, I never really felt attracted to people. There was only one time I was really interested in someone else and he was a man. Between that and, well, other things, it's safe to say I like guys, too. Of course I'm okay with your liking men. And women, for that matter."

_I see…_ Gilbert thought with a suspicious tone in his head. A smirk appeared quickly on Gilbert's lips and he looked out the corner of his eye at Matthew. "Awesome. Now that that's out the way, mind sharing who this mystery guy is?"

Matthew flushed with embarrassment as he started the car. "It's kind of embarrassing."

"You don't have to tell me."

Matthew thought about everything that Gilbert had shared with him that morning and sighed. "Carlos. I got over my…crush fast enough since he kept calling me Alfred and beating me up, but it existed."

"Carlos?" This came out confused.

"Cuba."

"Carlos?" This came out incredulous. "He beat you up and you still liked him? Why him?"

Matthew's face burned so much that his eyes were starting to water. His snippy side decided to make an appearance to save the day.

"You live in a glass house, mister. Roderich, really? A stuck-up musician who obviously can't appreciate what's in front of him? Really? You have no room to throw stones." Immidately after he stopped talking, Matthew balked at his words. _Oh, shit_ , he thought. _It's probably way too soon to be joking about it._

Gilbert surprised him by teasing in kind. "At least Roderich didn't actually beat me up! And, come on, Birdie, if he couldn't tell the difference between you and your idiot brother then he clearly didn't deserve you, anyway."

"Let's just say that we both have bad taste and move on, eh?"

"Oh, I wouldn't say that, Birdie. In fact, I think my taste only improves with age." Matthew looked over at Gilbert as they stopped at a traffic signal. The Prussian's gaze was intense and on Matthew as he said that last sentence. Matthew flushed again and it was only partially from embarrassment.

Huffing a little to himself, Matthew tried to play it off. "What are you now, a fine wine?"

"Maaaybe…"

Matthew laughed and the moment passed but Gilbert made a note of it as they chatted on the way to the Falls. Matthew's professed attraction to men and clear reaction to him made Gilbert feel safe to declare a mental 'open season' on Matthew Williams. Matthew was being hunted; he just didn't know it yet.


	15. Chapter 14: Feliciano's Idea

"…You know, mi amor, there are ways of gaining revenge that do not involve your gun."

Ludwig looked sharply at his lover, confused as all get out. He wasn't used to Feliciano being as perceptive as he had been for the last minute or so, but the cold animosity in his voice was something that Ludwig had never seen before. It worried him greatly. "…Feliciano?"

"Ve~ yes, Luddy?" The blank look returned to Italy's face in an instant. The wonderful gold of his irises were once again barely visible as his lips turned up in a smile that always was on his face when he was normally talking to the German. It was a far cry from his serious expression not seconds ago and Ludwig was highly concerned.

"Are you alright?"

"Sure. Why wouldn't I be okay?" Feliciano jumped up and gave Ludwig a peck on the cheek before turning back to the bed. It was before noon and therefore he felt like he had no need to be awake. _Revenge is a lot of work_ , Feliciano thought. _I'm gonna need all the rest I can get!_

"Well you just seemed… unlike yourself for a moment, that's all," Ludwig said as he watched Feliciano climb back into bed, his gaze automatically drawn to the curl on Feliciano's head that bounced with his every movement and then to the long path of bare leg that peeked out from under the dress shirt that Feliciano wore to bed. Ludwig blushed and suddenly felt the need to be somewhere else. "Well, if you're feeling fine…"

Ludwig turned to leave the room abruptly, almost reaching the door when he heard Feliciano call out, "Luddy, you still have your gun."

Ludwig looked down at his hand to see the weapon clutched in his palm. He had honestly forgotten that it was there…or maybe that was just a Freudian slip. "Ah, yes, I-"

Feliciano pouted, "Luddy! I thought I told you that there were other ways to go about things!"

Slightly embarrassed and still filled with the need to avenge his brother, Ludwig snapped, "Like what, Feliciano?" He instantly regretted his actions when there were instant tears at the corners of the Italian's eyes. Sighing, Ludwig walked quickly towards the bed, set the gun on the nightstand and hugged the smaller man to him. "I'm sorry, Feli. I'm just a little upset over what happened. I shouldn't have snapped at you."

Feliciano looked at Ludwig's face and smiled a little before hugging the blonde back. "Ve~ you called me Feli." Ludwig instantly flushed but Feliciano continued talking. "I want to help, too, Luddy. Gilbert's like a brother to me and no one is allowed to hurt him and just get away with it! Why don't you tell me what happened after I get up and we can figure it out together, hm?"

Ludwig was still a little unconvinced that Feliciano would be able to help him and the Italian noticed his hesitation. Feliciano reached up to touch his face and said, "I know you don't remember much before the 19th century-"

"I remember you… a little."

Feliciano smiled briefly, "Ve~ you were so cute back then Luddy! You would always watch me clean in your scary way and then try to leave me yucky food and- oh, I was trying to say something before. What was I saying?"

Ludwig's lips twitched. He was torn between exasperation and smiling at Feliciano's ability to be utterly adorable. "Something about me not remembering-"

"Oh, right! What would I do without you? Anyway, you don't remember but I used to hold a trading monopoly on the Mediterranean Sea. I held on to my empire for hundreds of years and I didn't do it by not being cunning. The Venetians and Genoese were not known for their kindness, Luddy. I think almost everyone has forgotten that." Feliciano moved to straddle Ludwig, resting on his knees so he could look directly into his eyes. "I can help, Ludwig."

At Ludwig's silent nod (he was wondering in the back of his mind where _this_ Feliciano was during the War but let it go), Feliciano moved to lie back down on the bed. Once he was settled, he looked up from his cocoon of covers. "Ve~ are you gonna come back to bed too, Luddy? I would love the company."

Blushing yet again, Ludwig rose awkwardly from his seated position and cleared his throat. "Ah, I should go back to work."

"Aaaw!" Feliciano pouted then smiled again. "It's okay, I guess. The more you do now the more time we'll have for revenge! But are you sure you don't want to-"

"Sleep well, Feliciano."

Ludwig rushed out of the room with a red face, leaving a slightly disappointed Italian and his handgun behind. They would be waiting for him when he came back.

* * *

Ludwig paused in his paperwork to listen to Feliciano putter around the kitchen. He was singing some Italian song and the language was lost on Ludwig even after decades of being all but married to Italy. He smiled at the sound of the tune, knowing that it meant that he was having some kind of pasta in pesto sauce and wrust for lunch. Ludwig didn't think that Feliciano was aware of how his songs always reflected the meal he was cooking but Ludwig was. It was just another one of Feliciano's a million little quirks that he had grown to love over the years. He knew every song by heart even though he couldn't understand a word of it.

There was the tale-tell sound of something shattering and Ludwig was running across the room before his mind caught up with his body. The last time that Feliciano had tried to clean up glass he had gotten distracted by the still-cooking pasta and cut himself on the shards. Ludwig would be damned if he let that happen again.

"Are you okay? Don't touch the glass!"

"I'm okay, Luddy! See look, I am even using the broom this time like you told me to do last time. No worries, si?"

Ludwig still ran his eyes over the other man, alarm growing when he noticed the other's bare feet. Ludwig was wearing shoes so he felt absolutely no hesitation in striding over the Italian and picking him up. As Ludwig walked out of the kitchen with his man, Feliciano giggled and said, "Yay! Luddy's carrying me!"

Ludwig sighed to himself as Feliciano began kicking his feet and wrapped his arms around Ludwig's neck. "You could have cut your feet on the glass, Feliciano. Where are your house shoes?"

"Uh… upstairs!"

"… Why are they upstairs?"

"Because wearing them is such a pain! I like being barefoot, Luddy. And I always feel like I'm going to slip down the stairs walking in them…"

Ludwig couldn't contain his shudder at the thought of Feliciano falling down the stairs. Since the man was so clumsy, the situation was probable… _Maybe I should get him a pair for downstairs specifically_ , thought Ludwig, not grasping the fact that Feliciano would most likely not wear them anyway.

Ludwig set Feliciano down in the chair in the living and briefly looked over the other's feet. Assured that he really was not injured, Ludwig said, "Stay here. I'll go clean up the glass."

"But Luddy! The pasta's ready now…"

Ludwig shook his head a little and, knowing that ruined pasta would spoil the other's mood for hours, said, "I'll plate the pasta so it doesn't burn, alright? Now go on to the dining room. I'll be out in a second with the food."

Without waiting for an answer, Ludwig marched to the kitchen and forced himself to see past the mess on the counters and floor (which really wasn't that much of a mess at all, but it was bothering Ludwig) to put the food on the plates in an orderly fashion. That done, he went to the dining room, balancing the plates, silverware, and glasses of water (already poured by Feliciano) with practiced ease. Feliciano was already waiting and smiled at the sight the German made. "You're so talented!"

Ludwig blushed and began eating his food as soon as possible just to be doing something. So when Feliciano said, "Now what did Mr. Austria do to Gilbert?" Ludwig choked just a little on his ravioli.

Feliciano frowned as his lover coughed and then quickly drank some water. He was going to start panicking when Ludwig just kept drinking water, only to be stopped by Ludwig saying roughly, "You know that Gilbert loves Roderich, right?"

"Ve~ si. I noticed the way that Gilbert looked at Roderich back in the '40s. Why do you…" Feliciano trailed off as his eyes widened. "What happened?"

"From what I understand, Gilbert more or less told Roderich that he loved him. If Roderich had only rejected him in a more normal way I wouldn't be this angry but he…" Feliciano waited for Ludwig to finish, his mind imagining the worst. "He tried to physically harm Gilbert then told him that he wished Gilbert was dead. That my brother wasn't good enough for him." Ludwig clinched his fists as his ire rose again.

Feliciano reached across the table to touch Ludwig's hand in an attempt to calm the man. Ludwig looked into Feliciano's eyes and said, "I wish you would have let me shoot him."

Feliciano's mouth quirked into a lopsided smile and he was silent for a second, thinking. Then, he went back to eating his pasta. "Don't worry, Luddy. Mr. Austria will get what he deserves soon enough. I know just what he needs: a taste of his own medicine."

Ludwig was surprised, "But how…?"

"Growing up in Mr. Austria's house left me some… insights to the man. I'll have to check something with Ms. Hungary first but I think I'm right about this…"

"What are you right about?" Ludwig was beginning to feel slow and he really didn't like it.

"Mr. Austria's in love with someone else, Luddy. If he didn't say those mean things to Gilbert I would have just let this go and tried to give Gilbert some hug therapy but as it is… Ve~ Luddy? When's the next world meeting?"

"In about two weeks. Why?"

"Well, if Mr. Austria doesn't apologize to Gilbert in the next two weeks, and it is not likely that he will, we'll make him wish that he never said such things to our brother, si?" A dark light flashed through Feliciano's eyes for a second but then vanished as the Italian when back to his normal squinty-eyed expression. "Ve~ did you like lunch, Luddy?"


	16. Chapter 15: On Spontaneity

About 30 minutes into the drive down Queen Elizabeth Way, Matthew was starting to have second thoughts about making the trip to Niagara today.

Sure, he was the one who suggested it, but not only did Matthew fail to show Gilbert more sights of Toronto, but it was an hour and twenty minute drive to the falls. Yes, it was only about 13:00 but that didn't mean that the traffic wouldn't be something to see when they returned. He knew that all those couples and families who spent the weekend at Niagara would be pushing their way back home by late afternoon and would clog up the freeway. While Matthew appreciated the boost of tourism for the economy, he did not appreciate the traffic jams that came with it. On top of the site's pure distance from his home, Matthew did not think to grab a change of clothes for neither Gilbert nor himself before just heading in this direction. Knowing his companion, Matthew was betting that the albino would appreciate dinner in Niagara-on-the-Lake but would be ecstatic to get on the Whirlpool Jet Boat. To do that, Matthew knew from experience, they would need _something_ to change in to unless they liked walking around soaked. And Lord help him if Gilbert got wind of the skydiving. Matthew was fine jumping out of air transportation… as long as there was something close and visible to land onto like a snowcapped mountain top. But just freefalling with only a trumped up grocery bag between him and pain was not his idea of a good time. He had never been skydiving and wasn't planning on doing so anytime soon.

Matthew also worried over Gilbert's emotional wellbeing. There would be a lot of lovey-dovey couples where they were going, especially in town. He didn't want to make Gilbert uncomfortable by throwing in his face everything that he could have had with Roderich… then again that would probably make Matthew uncomfortable, too. Matthew winced at the thought. Today was supposed to be fun and he might have just planned something that would make his guest, no – friend squirm.

"Uh… Birdie?"

Matthew startled, coming out of his daze. Thank goodness he knew his roadways like the back of his hand, otherwise something horrible could have happened. "Sorry, Gil, what was that?"

"Nothing really but are you alright? You look troubled."

Matthew ran a hand through his hair and said, "I just realized that I forgot to stop home so that we could grab a change of clothes. There's something that I know that you will love to see and it requires something to change into afterwards. There's actually a lot to do and see and I have no idea how we're going to get to everything today. Under usual circumstances I wouldn't worry so much and would just say that we could come back another day but I have no idea when…" _when you'll leave and won't come back_ "when we will be able to come back this way and then to top it off there will be a lot of couples and I don't want to make you uncomfortable plus- "

Gilbert halted Matthew with a hand on his shoulder. Matthew hazarded a glance his way only to see the other's eyes sparking with amusement. It almost made his crimson eyes glow, that look. Matthew swallowed hard and focused on the road again. "First of all, Birdie, calm down. I've never seen you ramble like this so something is bothering you way too much for my comfort. Just breathe for a second, alright?" Matthew nodded so Gilbert continued. "Second, we have all the time in the world to do stuff. Even if we don't get to everything today we have until your vacation ends to do whatever we want, right?" Another nod. "So don't stress about the time. Third, if you really think that we need a change of clothes we can just stop somewhere and pick up something inexpensive. It's no big deal. Today's supposed to be a happy day, ja?"

Matthew sighed, calmer. "I know but I just wished that I had thought this out a little more."

"There's nothing wrong with a little spontaneity. Sure, things don't go as planned, if there's any planning involved at all, but that often turns out to be the most awesome part."

"…If you say so, Gil."

"Kesesese, Birdie, I know so. Why don't you let me do the 'planning' once we get there?"

"But you don't know what's there!"

"I know! That's the best part. It will be completely spur of the moment and you'll love it."

"I'm not sure…"

"Look, the only thing that my long life has taught me, especially the last half century or so, is that you have to live in the moment. I know you're young but this is something that you should learn before shit happens and suddenly the world is on its side. It took me centuries but I truly understand that now. Let me show you what it's like. If you don't have the best time of your life, then I won't stop you from making plans in the future. Trust me, okay?"

Matthew really wanted to look at Gilbert, to see the look in his eyes as he talked, but he kept his eyes on the road, his hands tightening on the steering wheel. There was a certain logic to what Prussia was saying but Canada wasn't quite comfortable with the idea. His life was quiet and filled with work, solitude and rare pleasures like skiing and the winter Olympics that made everything else in between worth it. There wasn't a lot of room for spontaneity in his life, or so Matthew thought. Maybe it was time to change that. He'd trust Gilbert with this and pray that he made the right decision.

"Alright, Gil, you win…but we are picking up another set of clothes. We are planning ahead this much because I fail to see how walking around freezing our butts off in search of a (probably expensive) clothing store is fun."

Gilbert gave him a grin that Matthew could tell was of the shit-eating variety from the corner of his eye. "Sure, whatever you say."

"Somehow, I doubt that you mean that."


	17. Chapter 16: An Accident

Matthew leaned against the black guard rail and took in the sight of tons of water rushing over the cliff. Against the backdrop of the multiple colors of the leaves, the view from Table Rock Welcome Center was breathtaking. While fall was never his favorite season, Matthew couldn't help but be awed at the simple beauty of Horseshoe Falls in the autumn. He couldn't recall how many times he had seen it in his long life but it never failed to make him pause for a moment and say "Wow."

Matthew turned around and looked at the scene behind him. As expected, there was a decent crowd for a late September Sunday afternoon. Families with small children, couples with the passion of youth and those with the quiet devotion of shared decades, giggling clumps of friends and a group of small children being wrangled by their stressed teachers… all manner of people milled about and interacted with each other over the roar of the nearby waterfall. Matthew smiled slightly as a sense of peace filled him. He could get comfortable and people watch for hours, enjoying the day in solitude, but something better awaited him.

Matthew looked at his watch and sighed. Gilbert had been gone for twenty minutes already. The albino had insisted on going into the welcome center alone so that he could pick what they were doing in secret, stating that he wanted everything to be a surprise. Matthew had pointed out that, since this _was_ part of the county he was the personification of, nothing Gilbert planned at Niagara would come as a complete surprise to him but Gilbert just waved him away. After informing Gilbert where he would be, Matthew separated from his friend and found himself at the edge of this cliff.

Now Matthew was starting to worry as his eyes scanned the crowds for a flash of characteristic silver hair. He found several examples only to be subsequently disappointed when they were all attached to older visitors…well, people who looked older. Matthew began to fret that Gilbert had gotten lost only to immediately discard the thought. It was far more likely that he got distracted in the candy store inside than to have gotten lost in the crowd. Resigned to his fate to wait, Matthew turned his back on the humans behind him and got lost in nature.

Gilbert, meanwhile, was sitting in a crowded food court and was having a hell of a time figuring out what to do, He wanted this day to be fun and spontaneous but he couldn't help wanting to plan out the day a little. He wanted to go this one restaurant for dinner but then he would have to make reservations and that would go against everything that he said to Matthew in the car. On top of everything, many of the attractions had planned schedules that required planning ahead to attend. He rubbed his hand over his eyes and stared intently at the brochures in front of him, willing the answer to jump out and hit him over the head.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw a woman leading a small child away from him, looking over her shoulder at the former nation in apprehension. Gilbert sighed, remembering that he was in public and just how frightening many people found his appearance. He closed his eyes tightly and fought off the sinking feeling in his stomach. He didn't need more confirmation that he was a freak.

Opening his eyes again, Gilbert picked up a map of the area in front of him and studied it yet again. An advertisement caught his eye just beyond the map and he studied it, smiling slightly. _This will do._

As he made his purchases and was handed two bright yellow ponchos, something small captured Gilbert's attention. Smirking, he said, "I'll take two of those, please."

This was going to be awesome.

* * *

Fully prepared, Gilbert walked towards the area where Matthew indicated that he would be. He wasn't intentionally sneaking up on the Canadian as he walked through the small crush of people but Matthew seemed completely unaware of Gilbert's presence when he arrived behind him. In that instant, Gilbert was struck by just how perfectly Matthew fit in with the backdrop of fall leaves and rushing water. He raised his recently bought disposable camera to his eye and snapped a picture after a moment. Gilbert immediately felt like a creeper and decided to announce his presence.

"The Awesome Me has returned!"

Matthew let out his startled 'eep' noise and was grateful falls' proximity. The roar of the water swallowed the embarrassing noise. "For Pete's sake, Gil! You startled me."

Gilbert couldn't really hear Matthew over the water but he could read facial expressions well enough. "Sorry, Birdie I didn't mean to scare you. If it makes you feel better I come baring gifts!" Gilbert held out the florescent yellow poncho and disposable camera.

Matthew narrowed his eyes suspiciously but huffed and took the offered goods. "Thank you."

"No problem! Give me a second…" Gilbert turned the little dial on his camera and pointed it at his friend. "Smile!"

Matthew looked over his glasses at his friend in irritation only to have his facial expression captured on film with a quiet click only audible to Gilbert. Gilbert gave Matthew his most innocent smile before taking the other's hand and led him away from the edge. Matthew followed, stumbling. His ire and embarrassment grew as he was all but dragged towards the welcome center. When Gilbert finally stopped and turned around, he found himself attached to one annoyed Canadian.

"I am not a ragdoll to be dragged around, Gilbert!"

Gilbert had the grace to look embarrassed. "Sorry, Birdie. I just wanted to be able to hear you, that's all. I couldn't hear you over the Falls."

Matthew found it difficult to remain angry with that explanation. It was nice for someone to go out of their way to hear him. It didn't lessen his embarrassment, however. "Next time, could you please just let me know when you want us to move somewhere? I'm not sure if you noticed but we got a couple of stares on the way over here. Not that I mind if people stare at us but it's a little uncomfortable when you're being manhandled."

Gilbert winced and rubbed the back of his neck. "Will do."

Matthew shook it off and decided to move on. "So what are we doing?"

"Well, I got this thing called an adventure pass so we can do the stuff here first and then head over to the other activities that are included."

Matthew frowned, wishing that he had kept more up to date with all of the packages offered at Niagara Falls. "What's included in the package?"

Gilbert's eyes grew wide and excited as he realized that today really was going to be filled with surprises for his friend. "What happened with not being surprised?" Gilbert teased.

"I'll probably know exactly what we're doing if you just told me what's included..."

"Nope! I rather just show you. If you would please follow me…"

Matthew rolled his eyes and followed the retreating back of his friend. "You are getting far too much enjoyment out of me not knowing what we're doing."

"Surprising people is one of my favorite things, Birdie!" Gilbert flashed a mischievous smile over his shoulder and re-entered the welcome center.

Matthew could only shake his head and wonder once again what he signed himself up for as he followed Gilbert inside.

* * *

As the final scenes showing the creation of Niagara Fall's finished, Gilbert could feel that his eyes were approximately the size of dinner plates. He didn't know what to expect when the cartoon of little creatures started but second part of Niagara's Fury (A/N that's the name of the attraction… which I don't own!) was awesome. He hadn't seen any 4D stuff before but he definitely had to do something like this again. He looked at Matthew only to see the other staring at him with a good deal of amusement in his eyes.

"What's so funny?"

"You."

Gilbert narrowed his eyes playfully and began to say, "Just what about me is so funny?" but only managed to get the first word until he was knocked into forcefully from behind.

Gilbert faintly heard a, "Oh, sorry, dude!" as he tried to catch himself as he fell. Unfortunately, his foot got caught on one of handrails people used to grasp during the main event. He fell towards Matthew and just before his hands grabbing Matthew's handle would stabilize him, Gilbert felt his lips touch something soft. It was a split second to realize that Matthew's lips literally broke his fall. He jerked back, eyes wide, and, in that moment, all he could think was, _Oh, shit._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to make this trip as realistic as possible without having actually been to Niagara Falls. If I'm completely off, sorry and remember I don't own anything.


	18. Chapter 17: Bet On It

This is not the way things were supposed to happen.

Gilbert, in the back of his mind, had been working on a plan to woo and win Matthew. Nothing was concrete, but he knew that making a move on him _the day he told Matthew he had been in love (maybe) with Roderich for centuries_ was not the way to go. Their first kiss was supposed to be after some serious sexual tension had pervaded a very solid friendship not as an accident on an unofficial date if he could even call it that! And Matthew sure as hell was not supposed to be doubled over with laughter after kissing Gilbert.

 _Why does nothing turn out the way I want anymore?_ Gilbert thought.

*mini-flashback (two minutes ago)*

Matthew didn't have time to react to the sudden reality of Gilbert kissing him. One moment he was getting great enjoyment out of teasing the albino and then the next thing he knew was startled ruby eyes that were way too close and a near jolting pressure on his mouth. The pressure quickly changed from pain to startling pleasure to non-existent as Gilbert steadied himself, realized what happened and threw himself backwards, almost tripping again.

The two nations stared at each other for what seemed like an infinite moment in shared surprise when a brass voice asked, "Hey, are you two alright? Man, I totally didn't see you there!"

Matthew quickly gathered himself and assessed the situation. A, clearly American by the accent, teenager was apologizing for something, presumably knocking into Gilbert and causing the present situation. Suddenly everything made sense.

Gilbert looked a little shell shocked so Matthew said, "It's quite alright. We are both fine, but thank you for your concern."

"If you're sure…"

"Yes," Matthew smiled at the young man who was beginning to get harassed by his friends for taking so long.

"Alright! Sorry and have a good day!" The boy hurried off and Matthew turned back to a still comically frozen Gilbert.

"Birdie? I'm sor-"

Matthew burst out laughing.

Gilbert, startled, began, "Er-"

Matthew just kept laughing and waved Gilbert to follow him to exit the room. No need to hold up other people from seeing the show just because he was laughing uncontrollably.

*end mini-flashback*

"Um, I don't know what's so funny but I'm sorry for what just happened. I'm not usually so clumsy and-"

"Yes you are," Matthew said, gaining a measure of control on himself.

"Was?" (What?)

"Clumsy, in the kitchen at least."

A blush appeared on Gilbert's face. "Uh…"

Wiping a tear from his eye, Matthew smiled widely at Gilbert and patted the other man's shoulder. "Calm down. I know it was an accident. I warned you about American tourists, didn't I? You should have seen your face." Matthew chuckled again. "It was one kiss and barely even one at that. So there's no need to be sorry, okay?"

Gilbert nodded, still looking embarrassed.

 _Why is he so adorable?_ Matthew thought but kept to himself. No need to embarrass the man further by telling him how blushing makes him more cute than handsome. "So, where are we headed to next?"

Gilbert cleared his throat and said, "Well, there's one more thing to do here then we have to go somewhere else."

"…I really wish you would just tell me…"

Gilbert smirked, finally getting over what just happened enough to smirk at the other man. "Now, Birdie, what would be the fun in that?"

* * *

Matthew was trying really hard not to laugh at how Gilbert looked yet again… but was a struggle. Raising his camera to his face, Matthew shouted to be heard over the falls, "Hey, Gil?" When Gilbert turned away from the falls to look at Matthew curiously, the Canadian continued, "Say, 'cheese!'" Matthew brought his finger down on the button as obviously as possible as he snapped a picture.

Gilbert frowned beneath his florescent yellow poncho and said, "Aw, come on, Birdie!"

"Turnabout is fair play!"

"But I look ridiculous in this poncho! You were not wearing this when I took those surprise pictures!"

Matthew would be the first to admit that Gilbert with his pale coloring did look horrible in the florescent yellow poncho but something else caught his attention. "What do you mean, _pictures_?"

"Oops."

"You took more than one?!"

"It was a good picture! You just weren't aware that it was being taken!"

Matthew narrowed his eyes. "You know what this means, right?"

"No, what?"

"This means war!"

"Uh… are you sure you want to do that? With me, a nation that used to live for conflict, who was born from it and thrived on it?"

"Yes!"

Gilbert smiled at Matthew's expression, more than a little thrilled that he was not afraid to challenge him after that warning. "Well, then."

"The person who gets the most pictures of the other person without them being visibly aware before dinner and starting now wins."

"What's the prize for winning?"

Matthew began walking towards the entrance of the tunnel and said, "The winner decides what we do for the next three days."

"You're on."

* * *

Elizabeta Héderváry paused in cooking herself lunch at the sound of the phone ringing. Deciding that the soup would keep for a few moments, she left to find the device. Picking it up, she answered, "Szia?" (Hello?)

"Ve~ ciao, Ms. Hungary!"

"Oh, Feliciano! I've told you to call me Elizabeta, dear."

"I know but I can't stop now! It's like you can't stop calling me 'dear.'"

"I suppose you're right! Well, how are you, stranger? It's been a while since we last talked!"

"I know! I'm fine and Luddy's grumpy but that's okay. How have you been? How's Dmitri?"

Elizabeta chuckled a little. "We're both fine. Dmitri still refuses to get up before dusk, no matter how much I tell him that he is not a vampire, but I still love the idiot." She and Feliciano shared a laugh for a moment before Elizabeta continued, "Well, did you have a reason for calling or is this just to chat?"

"Well, Gilbert," (Elizabeta felt her eye twitch at the name), "has been spending a lot of time with Mr. Austria recently and I know Gilbert likes Mr. Austria but I thought that Mr. Austria loved Vash. I wanted to check with you since you seem to know these things…"

Elizabeta frowned as she checked her soup. Something wasn't quite right with what Feliciano was saying but she shrugged it off. She sighed into the phone. "Well, I know that Roderich had feelings for Vash years ago but I'm not sure about now. We haven't really been in touch recently. I'm not sure if Vash feels the same and spying on the man is always so dangerous! If Vash doesn't feel the same then this whole situation is simply a mess. I despise that Prussian bastard- no offense, dear, because I know you think of him as a brother- but I would never wish unrequited love on him. And, admittedly, Gilbert and Roderich would make an unbelievably cute couple, but I know for a fact that Roderich doesn't feel the same. And if Roderich does love Vash but Vash doesn't return the sentiment…" Elizabeta shook her head. "What a romantic mess."

"I agree."

An idea occurred to Hungary. "Maybe I should clean it up? It's been a while since I engaged in any mischief of this kind…Will you help me, Feli?"

"What?"

"Well, since at this point no one is happy romantically, why don't we try to make it work? I'm thinking that with a little information gathering and a little manipulation of all parties, together we could maybe get some people paired off! Hmmm, first I would have to find out if Vash likes Roderich and vice versa and then you could steer Gilbert in a different direction…I bet that if we work together we could clear up a lot of things! So, are you with me?"

"Ah-"

"Great! I'll get back to you as soon as I have more information! I'll just start with calling Lili and- oh, there is so much to do! Talk to you soon, dear!"

Elizabeta hung up without noticing that Feliciano had neither promised to help her nor bothering to figure out what was wrong with what he said. Those things flew out of her mind as she began to do her favorite kind of plotting. She sat down at the table, preparing herself to eat a full meal. Matchmaking was hungry work after all.

* * *

Feliciano stared at the phone in his hand. If he was his brother, he would say wholeheartedly, "What the fuck just happened?" But since he was the personification of North Italy, he just said, "Ve~ whaaaaa?"

"Is everything alright Feliciano?"

Feliciano frowned at Ludwig who was sitting not far away from him. They were in Ludwig's office and Feliciano was leaning on the desk a little while his partner was sitting behind it. "Well, that didn't go as expected but I think we will be able to work with these circumstances. It may even go in our favor…"

Ludwig froze as he recognized the tone in Feliciano's voice. He was way too serious, and, just like on the phone call, there was an alarming absence of Feliciano's signature verbal tick. It made him wonder if the tick was just for show. Ludwig wanted to ask but then it would throw their past 60 years together into question. If the tick was false, then how much of the man he fell in love with was false too?

"Ve~ Luddy? Are you alright? Is something wrong? Did you eat too much pasta for lunch?"

And now the Feliciano he knew was back. Could he so easily switch between personalities? This was extremely troubling and-

Feliciano abruptly grabbed Ludwig's face and kissed him. Ludwig's first reaction was to jerk away and Feliciano pulled back, close to crying. "Ve~ Luddy? Did I do something wrong? You were staring at me funny and then you pulled back from me…"

"Which is real?" It just came out and then it was too late for Ludwig to take it back.

"What?"

"Which one of you is real: this new, cunning Feliciano or the man I've been living with for damn near 60 years?"

"Both. Can't I be both?" Tears started to fall from Feliciano's eyes.

Ludwig hated to see the other cry but this is something he needed to know. "Then why hide it from me, Feliciano? I have never seen this side of you and I have consciously known you for almost a century. I've hidden nothing from you yet there is a whole side to you that I am just now seeing. How much don't I know about you?" _How much of our past is a lie?_

Feliciano was sobbing at this point, praying that this wasn't happening. "I was afraid you wouldn't like me this way-" sob "-because everyone hated mi fratello for being mean and-" sob "-liked me because I wasn't. I only-" sob "-wanted you to like me then that became me and I just wanted-" sob "-to help you with Mr. Austria and…" Feliciano looked at Ludwig with distraught, wide eyes. His sobs halted for a second as something hit him. He started to hyperventilate as fear began to take over.

Ludwig couldn't take it anymore. He got up from his chair and moved to take Feliciano in his arms to comfort him. He would never be able to describe the pain he felt when he saw his lover flinch away from him. He still proceeded to hold the Italian to try and calm him. "Shh. Breathe, Feliciano, breathe."

Feliciano clutched at Ludwig's shirt and shook for a while, too terrified of the answer to voice his question. But after a sometime of Ludwig stroking his back and trying to calm him, his breathing evened out and he found the courage to ask, "Do you not love me anymore?"

Ludwig went still once again, feeling like utter shit for making Feliciano doubt that he loved him. Unfortunately, Feliciano took it as confirmation and tried to leave Ludwig's arms, crying again and suddenly needing to be somewhere else. "Let me go, then! If you don't love me then I can't… I can't-"

"Of course I love you, you idiot! I wouldn't let you go for anything! How could you not know that by now?!" Ludwig was yelling and Feliciano stilled then tentatively turned back to face him.

"But you just-"

"If I hid something about myself from you for 100 years, you would be upset, too. But you would still love me, right?"

"Ve~ of course I would-"

"Then why the hell did you think it would be any different for me?"

"Because you just-"

Ludwig silenced him by sitting on the edge of his desk and tilting his chin up a little so that they were eye to eye. "I'm hurt that you didn't trust me enough to share every single part of your personality with me. It pains me to know that you thought that you having a bit of a darker side would make me leave you. But do you know what hurts the most right now, Feliciano? What kills me?" He paused while Feliciano tried to shake his head no. "That I apparently have not loved you enough, that I haven't been giving you what you needed to believe that I will love you forever. That even knowing all this, I can't let you go so that you could find someone who would love you better than I ever could. I need you but you don't need me." Tears shone in Ludwig's eyes but he held them back, like he always did. He held on to the illusion of strength because it was all he feared he had left.

Feliciano forcefully removed his chin from Ludwig's grasp. He reached up to touch Ludwig's cheek gently, then said, "Ve~ that is the stupidest thing I have ever heard."

Ludwig flinched like he had been slapped. "Was?" (What?)

"Silly Luddy, of course I need you! Saying I don't is like saying that pasta is horrible or that Russia isn't scary! It makes no sense!"

"Then why-"

Feliciano put his finger on Ludwig's mouth. "Nope! My turn to talk. I was afraid to show you that I could be mean because I always wanted you to love me and I knew that you loved the kind me but not the dark me. I have had this fear for as long as I've known you and you not loving me is one of my worst fears! It scares me more than being locked up with England and his cooking forever! You've been more than enough. Ve~ Luddy, you've been perfect and I never want you to feel differently again! Okay?"

Ludwig moved the Italian's had out the way and kissed him, letting a tear fall. Everything was clearly not okay, but it would be.

* * *

Matthew sat on a bench (sans yellow poncho; they left those in the car) and listened for a moment to the rushing water of the rapids not 10 meters in front of him. He was hyperaware of his surroundings, letting his gaze relax as he tried to catch any movements from the corner of his eyes. Gilbert had disappeared after their arrival to the White Water Walk and Matthew knew what that meant: he was being hunted by a man on a mission and a disposable camera. They had picked up more rolls of film before they left the welcome center so it was anyone's game.

Matthew was almost positive that he was winning. He had been to all of these attractions before so he was not as easily distracted as Gilbert who was both a new tourist and a competitor. A small smile touched Matthew's lips as he recalled what he had planned for when he won. There was movement out of the corner of his eye and he looked straight at Gilbert as the other's finger came down on the camera's button. "I see you, you know."

"Are you physic or something? Every time…"

"No, I'm just a bit more aware of my surroundings."

Gilbert moved to pout but Matthew rushed up to slam a hand over the other's mouth in a panic. "Don't do that here! Small children are present and they don't need to have the vision of an adorable yet demented demon seared into their brains, Gil! They are impressionable!"

Gilbert just widened his eye more as he secretly snapped a picture of Matthew from the camera at his side. _Awesome!_ "But Birdie…" Gilbert whined.

"No!"

The sound of giggling distracted them both as they saw two women walking past them, clearly a little tipsy but not drunk. One of them said, "You two are so cute together!"

Both Matthew and Gilbert blushed. "Was?" "What?"

Matthew saw his opportunity then hastily snapped a picture of Gilbert's cute embarrassed face from his side. _Success!_

The same one said, "You two are taking more pictures of each other than the scenery! And you're so cute when embarrassed, too!"

Matthew started, "But we're not-" at the exact same time that Gilbert said, "Wait, we're just-" The men stopped talking at the same time to let the other speak only to be granted with silence. The women giggled.

The second girl said, "You two enjoy your vacation!"

Matthew and Gilbert looked at each other for an awkward moment then laughed it off, both thinking something along the lines of: _too bad it's not true._

One of the women looked back at them and said to her friend, "I bet that if they're not together now they will be soon."

"Girl, please! I'm half drunk and I still know that betting against you would be foolish. Not that we would ever have a way of finding out but still. No bet."

* * *

"I'm out of film," Gilbert said to Matthew while they rode on the last Maid of the Mist boat for that day. It was pretty packed with everyone tying to fit in one last thing for the day before heading home. The two had snagged a good spot on the railing of the upper level but the limited amount of space meant that they were in close contact with each other. They were in the yellow ponchos again, but that didn't mean that they weren't aware of the contact.

Matthew looked at Gilbert. "I have a couple pictures left."

"Hmmm, I see." Gilbert said in a suspicious yet playful voice.

Matthew chuckled then frowned. "You know, I just realized that we won't have any pictures together."

"… If you use one of your left over pictures, we can count that one in your favor."

"…Are you sure?"

"Ja, of course! Can I see your camera? We might as well take it before we get too close to the falls and get all wet."

Matthew handed over the camera and Gilbert pulled him into a one armed hug as he held the camera up. "Smile."

Gilbert took the picture and turned to Matthew, releasing the other from the hug. They were frighteningly close and a moment tension stretched between them. How many of those moments they had within the past twenty-four hours, Matthew didn't know. He took the offered camera and something caught his eye.

The noise of the crowd rose but Gilbert didn't notice as Matthew seemed to reach for him. He stilled with apprehension which turned to confusion as Matthew raised his hood. Matthew said, "Turn around."

Gilbert did and he saw just how close the boat had gotten to the falls without him noticing. He blushed and was happy that Matthew couldn't see it. He watched the water crash into the rocks below but his mind was on the man beside him.

* * *

"Well?"

"Give me a second."

"How about now?"

"Gil…" Matthew warned.

Gilbert sighed and looked out at the falls, lit up in multiple colors. It was a beautiful sight but that still didn't mean that he wasn't completely consumed with the need to know who won their little competition. They had dropped off the photos at a place to get the film developed and had dinner together. It wasn't at the restaurant that Gilbert wanted to go to (he was serious about those reservations before) but Matthew led him to a smaller, less famous restaurant where they were able to get good food and not wait hours for a table. Now the sun had set and the photos were developed. Matthew was counting them, chuckling every now and then, and not letting Gilbert see them yet.

"Birdie-"

"I win. 26 to 20."

"Huh." Gilbert sat back. He trusted that Matthew wouldn't cheat on the count. "You win."

Matthew smiled at him widely. "I win."

"So, what are we doing tomorrow?"

Matthew's smile got wider. "I'm going to teach you how to play hockey."


	19. Chapter 18: A Little Pain

Gilbert didn't know what he was expecting when Matthew said that he was going to teach him how to play hockey, but he didn't expect it to _hurt_ so much.

His usually pale hands were red with cold as he gripped the side of the ice rink, trying his damnedest not to fall down and embarrass himself further. He was lucky that he stayed in shape over the past couple of years or he would have been flat on his back, passed out from exertion. And all he was learning to do was skate.

In a momentary lapse in judgment, Gilbert failed to explain to Matthew that he knew how to skate with _figure_ skates, not the rounded blades used by hockey players that he was now balancing on precariously. He didn't understand the difference until he moved to skate and fell flat on his face.

Gilbert's face flared red, not from the constant chill of the ice rink but for the memory of embarrassment. One foot on the ice and he had Matthew fussing over him like a mother hen. He was the Awesome Prussia, damn it! He didn't need to be mothered over, especially not by the man he was slowly trying to figure out how to seduce.

The memory washed over him and he saw the scene as if he were out of his body. Matthew, fully expecting Gilbert to be right behind him when they hit the ice, was in the middle of the rink when he looked back to see his friend struggling to right himself on the new, smooth ice. Concerned, Matthew rushed over and stopped in one of those brutal yet fluid motions that hockey players acquire after years of practice. Next to Matthew, Gilbert's unsteady rise from the ice and near spill once upright looked like a comedic routine. The Prussian winced at the thought.

Then, for the three hours following that incident, Matthew stuck to Gilbert's side, making sure that the former nation would not crack his head on the ice or break anything. At one point, Matthew skated backwards while holding a struggling Gilbert's hands just to get them around the rink in a timely manner.

It would have almost been better if Matthew had teased Gilbert or make fun of his lack of grace, but the snarky side of the Canadian was missing today. He had been so serious, so patient through it all that Gilbert was ashamed that he wasn't progressing faster. He was a nation and Prussia at that. Skating should have been no issue for him.

 _Then again,_ he thought, remembering a time long ago _, I always did have bad luck with ice._

After hours of practice skating, Gilbert could now make it around the rink at a decent clip without falling or losing his balance. While his legs burned and his back hurt, he remembered Matthew's face that first night when he said that hockey was a team sport and that he had no one to play with. Gilbert knew that he would not be in any condition to learn hockey until he got this basic skill down, so he gathered his energy, ignored the protest of his aching muscles and began skating again.

He would do at least this much for his Birdie. He had to.

* * *

Matthew looked at Gilbert skate around the rink and sighed to himself, feeling horrible. Hockey just came so naturally to him that he forgot that, having never seen hockey before meeting him, Gilbert probably had never learned to skate with hockey skates. Gilbert had waved off Matthew's concerns at the beginning of the day, but it was lunch time and the strain of Gilbert's efforts were clearly taking a toll. This was supposed to be fun or at least that was how Matthew imagined the day. _Perhaps I was just being selfish in my request_ , he thought.

The idea of being able to play hockey with Gilbert was more appealing than Matthew cared to think about. Was it just the fact that he was possibly looking at a future without hockey games or the loneliness that still, even after nearly a week of having a companion, clung to him? Or was it some other reason, one that he didn't want to think too hard about and was solely focused on Gilbert?

Matthew shook his head and skated over to Gilbert, easily matching the other's pace. "Hey, Gil?"

Gilbert tried to slow down like Matthew taught him, but nearly fell and just skated over to the side, nearly crashing into the wall. Gilbert pursed his lips and looked at Matthew. "Hey, Birdie. What's up?"

Matthew bit his lip and said, "I'm a little hungry. Would you mind stopping for the day? I think that we've done enough for now."

"Ja, maybe that would be a good idea." Gilbert's body sagged in relief before his brain told him that it was a bad idea. He immediately straightened but Matthew still caught the action.

"Gil, how bad is it?"

"What are you-"

"No, don't dance around this issue. How much are you in pain right now?"

Gilbert didn't look Matthew in the eye when he said, "Nothing I can't handle. I just haven't used these muscles in a while, that's all."

"That was not the question, Gilbert! If it is so bad that you won't even tell me how much pain you are in, why would you push yourself to this point? For goodness sake, today was supposed to be fun, not torturous."

"Trust me, I've been on the receiving end of torture and this is like a day at the spa."

That stopped both Matthew and Gilbert for a second. Stricken, Matthew said, "Gil—"

"Look, Birdie. I know how important hockey is to you," Gilbert said nonchalantly, like admitting to being tortured was akin to going to a restaurant before. "Just one look at your face when you talked about playing that first night was all I needed to know that you loved it. We're friends now and I want to help you do one of your favorite things in the world. After all that you have done for me, it's the least I can do."

"Gil, you don't have to push yourself to do this out of obligation. Just having a friend is enough for me."

Gilbert looked at Matthew, his eyes intense and drying sweat dotting his brow. "Can't I just want to do something for you?"

Matthew felt like all the air had left his lungs yet he still managed to squeeze out in a barely audible tone, "No one ever has before."

Gilbert looked at Matthew for a second in disbelief then straightened from the wall and skated as carefully as he could to the other man. Stopping in front of Matthew was a struggle so he gripped the other man's shoulders to steady himself. Gilbert didn't release Matthew when he said, looking straight into his eyes, "Well, then it about time that someone changed that. You're worth it."

The full effect of what Gilbert was saying hit Matthew with a shock that showed in his eyes. He never considered himself in a position to deserve anything from others. Sure he longed for affection and caring but never actually expected to get it. To have the man in front of him say something like this after centuries of near solitude, after Gilbert had so recently experienced heartbreak, was profound to Matthew. He was at a loss for words. "Gil…"

Gilbert realized that this moment had become heavier than was needed at this early stage in their relationship, but he couldn't take back what he said. It was honesty and he could give no less. However, he needed to lighten this mood. Smirking softly, Gilbert said, "I also couldn't wimp out on a bet. A win is a win, Birdie, and I always pay up. Now let's go get something to eat."

Matthew recognized the distraction technique and went with the flow, but Gilbert's words and the earnest look in his eyes stayed with him for throughout lunch and would haunt him for the rest of the day.


	20. Chapter 19: Europe Calling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning for one-sided pseudo-incest.

"Guten tag," said the personification of Liechtenstein distractedly into the phone. Lilli Zwingli was busy looking over looking over paper work dealing with an upcoming festival in her small land. There wasn't usually much to administer since her people were very efficient and, admittedly, she relied heavily on her adoptive big brother, Vash. However, she was trying to take a more active role in her country, even if it just meant reading up on the happenings of the towns. While being the Nation itself allowed Lilli to get the bigger picture of events, she found that the small details are what really mattered in understanding humans. So she read and often got engrossed in otherwise boring government permits and contracts for what the language revealed about her citizens. As such, she didn't bother to look at caller ID and was quite surprised to hear a rather enthusiastic reply.

"Lilli, dear! How _are_ you? It's been such a long time since we talked!"

Lilli smiled and dropped the document she was reading instantly. "Elizabeta? Well, hello there, stranger! I'm quite fine, and how about you and your lovely vampire?"

Lilli chuckled as she could almost see her long time friend rolling her eyes. "Don't encourage him, Lilli! If I didn't love him so much then I just wouldn't tolerate the amount of red wine he drinks and his instance for meat that is just a step up from still moving."

"Oh, trust me; I know how much his quirks get under your skin. Why do you think I keep bringing it up?"

Elizabeta huffed into the phone. "Some friend you are!"

The two women shared a laugh at the long time running joke between them. It had been at least a year since they last chatted, but their conversations were never forced or awkward. After being friends for as many years as they had been, time became irrelevant. It helped that they lacked the life span of humans, of course, but that is neither here nor there.

After several minutes of catching up on the past year that they both failed to pick up the phone and call the other (*cough* 30 *cough*), Lilli said, "Now that we've caught up, what's happened?"

"Whatever do you mean?" Hungary asked innocently.

"Oh, come now, Eliza! This is me you're talking to. What are you planning?"

"Well… you know I haven't done this for a while so…"

Lilli sighed. "Are you attempting to match-make again?"

"Maybe."

"Really? Eliza, I thought we talked about this the last time you attempted to do so. If I remember correctly, it did not exactly go well."

"I blame that on bad information. Italy and Romano never hinted that their brother was straight. I'm making sure to be better at reconnaissance this time around. This is where you come in my dear, dear friend!"

"Do I even… oh, goodness, Eliza, surely you don't mean- I mean you're not talking about…"

"So, is Vash dating anyone?"

Lilli let out a noise that voiced her utter disbelief of the situation and banged her head on her desk a few times for good measure. Of all the people in the world she was most conflicted about setting up, it was her adoptive brother, Vash. On one hand, she knew him the better than anyone in the world and would like to see him with someone. At times when he doesn't realize she is looking, Lilli can see the abject loneliness in his eyes and it pains her. Years of neutrality left him without the strong bonds of friendship and romance formed over the centuries among his European neighbors. While they enjoyed a strong sibling bond, it didn't keep Vash (or Lilli) warm at night.

On the other hand, it was only a decade back or so that Lilli finally gave up her crush on Vash. Switzerland only ever saw her as a sister, despite the fact that they were not related at all in the traditional sense. While Lilli had managed to shake off the feelings, there was still reluctance to imagine him with anyone else yet alone actively assist in Elizabeta's plans. Yet, she knew she could not deny her friend if it meant that maybe her almost-brother could be happy. He deserved it after all these years.

"Lilli?" Elizabeta's voice was soft as she asked after her friend. She, of course, knew of Liechtenstein's past feelings towards Switzerland. She would have thought that ten years would have been enough to erase any lingering romantic feelings towards Vash, but a lot could change in a year, even for nations. "Lilli, if you feel uncomfortable doing this, I-"

"No, he's not dating anyone," Lilli said with her voice resigned. It was time for her to move on.

"Lilli, I-"

"Don't worry about it, Eliza. It's just…I didn't expect to feel this way about this. Just…forget it. Now, what do you want to know?"

Elizabeta was silent for a moment on the phone and Lilli could imagine her old friend biting her lip and looking uncomfortable. The silence stretched as Lilli just waited for her friend's matchmaking urges to override her guilt.

It took longer than Lilli expected, but soon enough Elizabeta said, "Do you know if Vash likes anyone?"

Lilli let out a breath she didn't know she was holding and frowned. "Not that I'm aware of, since Vash pretty much keeps to himself and- oh."

"Oh?"

"Oh my, I had forgotten that…"

"Forgotten what, Lilli?"

"Well it happened so long ago that I may be mistaken-"

"Oh for goodness sakes, girl, SPIT IT OUT!"

"Austria."

"…What?"

"I think my brother likes Austria."

Elizabeta asked very carefully, "How do you know?"

"Well, it's a little bit embarrassing…"

"Lilli, please."

Liechtenstein's cheeks heated at the memory that she had attempted to suppress. Her voice came out strained as she began, "Many years ago, while I was still living in Vash's house, I was walking around the house late one night. I couldn't sleep and decided to explore a bit. It was around two in the morning when I finally came to my brother's room. I was intending to pass by the room, assuming that he would be asleep and not wanting to disturb him. But then I heard a… sound."

"A sound."

"A low, pained moan. I panicked and quickly burst into his room only to find…"

"Find…?" Elizabeta's voice was going more and more curious as well as excited.

"You're really going to make me say it."

"Say what, my friend?" Elizabeta had an idea as to where this little tale was going and a bit of mischievousness had sneaked its way into her voice. "What did you find when you looked at your dear brother?"

"Don't be an ass."

Elizabeta reeled herself in. "I'm sorry, Lilli. It's a habit of mine when I'm sense that I'm about to discover something. Forgive me?"

"Yeah, sure."

"… What did you see?"

Lilli took a deep breath and said in a rush, "Isawhimtouchinghimselfwhilestillasleep."

"What? I sorry, I really didn't catch that."

Mortified and through gritted teeth, Lilli said, "I. Saw. Him. Touching. Himself. While. Still. Asleep."

"Oh, okay. What about that made you think he likes Austria?"

"As I rushed out of the room I heard him moan Austria's human name." Lilli flinched at the suddenly vivid memory of the moment she realized her brother was not in any pain or danger. She knew he was male and, no matter how well he his self restraint, he was bound to the urges that almost everyone shared. The difference between that vauge knowledge and having the evidence displayed quite by accident in front of her eyes was… startling to say the least.

"Roderich."

Elizabeta's voice brought her mind back to the present. "Yes, that was it."

"… I see. Were there any other…indications?"

"Hmmm. There was this one time when we ran into Austria at the grocery store and had lunch with him. Before Prussia came from, well, a bush, there was a sort of tension between them. I thought it was just hate but it could have been something more, I guess. Then there were all the times I saw Vash punching himself in the head over his own thoughts…"

"This just might work then!"

"What-"

"Thank you so much, Lilli! You have no idea how helpful you have been! Let me know if you need anything from me, ok? Anything at all!"

"Actually, yes I have a question for you."

Elizabeta was about a second away from hanging up when the word's her friend said registered in her brain. "Ask me anything."

"Y-you and P-Prussia were… together once, right?"

"A VERY long time ago. What was I even thinking…"

"Umm, er, well what was he like when you were dating?"

"Ugh! He was so annoying! He would constantly try to hold my attention which just made me more inclined to ignore him. Gilbert was loud, brutish and obnoxious. I can't believe I even dated him for as long as I did. I mean, sure the sex was amazing, but there's a point where great sex doesn't outweigh the negatives."

Lilli's face heated at the mention of sex so soon after talking about her brother (she couldn't change tracks mentally fast enough to not feel suddenly awkward) but pushed the conversation along. "Surely there were times when he wasn't awful."

"Well, there were small… moments when he would do something very sweet that would take my breath away. And he would sometimes fail at doing something while proclaiming his awesomeness which, while annoying, was very cute. He would love to laugh and a couple of times I would just catch him smiling at me. Not smirking, just smiling softly. Gilbert would hold me as we slept and always make sure that I was never bothered by someone else, despite the fact that he bothered me the most…"

Lilli listened as Elizabeta's voice took a more wistful tone. "I think I know why you stayed with him so long."

"Of course, he's still an ass and I hate him. But that's beside the point. What happened between us was _centuries_ ago. His… tastes have certainly changed since then. Pfft," a decidedly ungraceful snort sounded through the phone, "my goodness is that an understatement. Why do you ask?"

"…What does he like now?"

"Oh, Lilli you can't be serious. _Please_ tell me you're not serious."

"Hey, don't judge me. Did I judge you when you started having some serious hate-sex with Romania while still technically married to Austria? No, I didn't because to each her own. So on what grounds do you-"

"No, Lil, no you misunderstand. I really hope that Gilbert isn't the one you are after because he also seems to want Roderich."

"Oh."

"Yes, after we broke up, Gilbert's tastes changed from me to my then-husband."

"Oh my."

Silence stretched until Elizabeta asked, "Are you alright?"

Lilli ran a hand through her hair and sighed. "Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just getting sick of the men I'm interested in liking your ex-husband."

Elizabeta chuckled lightly. "It does seem to be a problem you keep having. I can't really fault your choice of Gilbert considering how much more attractive he's grown over the centuries. It helps that he is one of the few single men left."

"Ha, that's true."

"Try Seborga, Lilli. You might get lucky."

"I don't know—"

"Who knows, you might get at the very least a friend out of it. He's a nice guy if a little mischievous. Seborga would be fun to have around."

"If you say so, Eliza. I'll let you go, though. I know you most likely have plans you want to put into motion. Don't be a stranger."

"Alright, Lilli. Take care of yourself, my friend. Bye."

"Bye."

Lilli heard the other line click a second before she pushed the correct button to end the call. She leaned back in her chair and looked at the ceiling. The day had turned out more informative than she expected. Lilli looked down at the paperwork and reports still strewn across her desk and sighed, standing. _A walk would be nice_ , she decided. She left her office and cell phone behind, wanting just a moment to herself so she could think.

Two hours later, Lilli would return to her office to look up Seborga's number. She wouldn't call him, not today, but the possibility would linger in her mind until she would pick up the phone and see what the Italian was up to.

* * *

Meanwhile, Eilzabeta was nearly bubbling over with excitement. Vash (most likely) liked Roderich! Yes, the fact that she had to shoot down Lilli's love interest was upsetting, but at least she redirected her to a more probable relationship. The thought had crossed her mind briefly to use Lilli to get Gilbert out of the way but it was just as quickly dismissed. She could never use her friend like that. Of course, that left her with the ever annoying problem of Gilbert. Elizabeta decided to call her partner in crime for an update.

A groggy voice answered, "Ve~ ciao."

"Wakey, wakey, sleepy head. There's been new developments!"

"Ms. Hungary?"

"Yes, yes, dear. Now I just got off the phone with Lilli and she said that Vash likes Roderich!"

Elizabeta heard rustling of sheets in the background as she presumed Feliciano sat up. "What?"

"I know, right! It's so exciting! Oooh, this is going to work, I can just feel it. I love it when a plan comes together, don't you?"

"Uh huh."

"Oh, wake up, Feli! Anyway I was calling to share this great news with you and to check if Gilbert would be suitably distracted so as to not interfere with my-our plans! Well?"

"Uh, Gilbert is on vacation somewhere."

"Oh, where is he?"

"I don't know."

Elizabeta paused for a moment. "Feli, are you alright? Do don't sound like yourself."

Instantly, Feliciano responded with, "Ve~ sorry, Ms. Hungary. I'm just reeeeeally tired. Luddy kept me up last night, hehe."

"Oh ho ho, did he now?" Hungary laughed. "Alright, I was just checking. I have to make sure my friends are ok! Anyway, with Gilbert effectively out of the way, I'm going to pop on over to Roderich's house tomorrow. I hear Dmitri stirring earlier than usual and I have some work to get done but I have to strike while the iron is hot!"

"Oh, ok, Ms. Hungary. Imma go back to sleep now. Good luck!"

"Sleep well, Feli."

Elizabeta hung up the phone and grabbed her purse. Checking her watch, she estimated that she could get to the market be back before Dmitri truly got up for the day then finish the work that needed her immediate attention. Tomorrow, she would go to Roderich's house and fandangle information out of him, learning how best to manipu- encourage Switzerland and Austria to get over themselves and do something! She was a woman on a mission and nothing was going to stand in the way of this match. Nothing.

* * *

Feliciano rubbed his eyes and groaned at the information he had just received. All of his plans went up in smoke the minute Hungary told him that Switzerland returned Austria's feelings. Stretching and rolling himself out of bed, Feliciano headed downstairs to find Ludwig taking a rare moment for himself.

The German was relaxed comfortably in a chair, reading a book. His face lacked any of the lines that were visible when Ludwig was working and Feliciano stopped for a moment to stare at him. Germany's mouth quirked in amusement from something on the page, then gave a short burst of laughter a few seconds later. The laugh wasn't elegant in anyway, it was short, surprised and harsh, but Feliciano cherished it. Germany so rarely laughed that this book must be truly amusing. Not wanting the ruin the moment, Feliciano tried to sneak away, only to run into a small table by the stairs almost immediately. Germany's eyes snapped up to find Italy struggling to keep the small lamp on the table from falling over.

After a moment of desperate movements, Italy froze and looked at his spouse with wide eyes and hands wrapped around the now stable lamp. "Ve~ good morning?"

The statement came out as almost a question and Italy winced at how uncomfortable it sounded. He immediately straightened himself and looked at the floor in embarrassment. After a moment, he heard Germany clear his throat and Italy looked up to find the other's eyes sparkling in amusement, the corners crinkled with a smile that his mouth did not show. Ludwig set down the book and spread his arms in a welcoming gesture that Feliciano took advantage of immediately. Climbing into the German's lap, Feliciano gave him a quick peck on the cheek before snuggling into his embrace which then tightened around him. "Ve, you're certainly in a good mood this morning…"

"I am trying to be better."

"What?"

Germany looked down at the man in his lap and said, with a slight frown that was more emotional than his usual expressions, "I'm trying to show that I love you more, that I can be expressive. After last night I… thought it would be best."

Italy sat up, ready to be upset, "Hey, I thought I told you that you didn't need to change 'cause you are perfect just the way you are! Ve, what's with the changing business?"

"Well I thought that I might lose you last night-"

"Luddy, I thought that we came to an understanding…" After the drama following his phone call to Hungary, Italy and Germany had not spent the night pleasuring each other as Elizabeta thought, but had lain in each other's arms and talked about the things they never said, the fears they never faced and the hopes they always kept close to their hearts, without walls or restrictions. Germany was determined to learn everything about Italy and Italy was trying to make sure his love would not turn away at the well hidden aspects of his personality. He feared that if everything was not put on the table now, if Ludwig discovered something later it would truly end them and that was unacceptable. Both were seemingly reassured and slept soundly after, but apparently Germany still had some misgivings.

Germany just pressed his lips to Italy's temple. "Just let me love you, ja?"

Italy frowned to himself but didn't really see any downside to Germany kissing him more. "Ve, okay."

They sat there, content with each other's presence for a bit before Germany said, "You're fidgeting."

"… My plans fell through." When Ludwig made a small, questioning noise, Feliciano explained, "To get back at Mr. Austria, I mean."

Ludwig tensed and was quiet for a moment. Then, he calmly asked, "Does this mean that I can-"

Feliciano shot up. "No! Luddy, you can't! You can't just attack Austria without-"

"Feliciano, it would just be Roderich and I as our human selves, not as Austria and Germany. I'm offended and feel awful and completely powerless to make Gilbert feel better. As his brother, I must at least confront Roderich. I want the whole story, not just what little Francis told me. I want to know what exactly he said to give my older, jaded brother that stricken look in his eyes. I want to understand why he's not here, drowning his heartbreak in pint after pint of beer." _I want to know why he left me, why I can't help him._

Feliciano looked and saw Ludwig's eyes cloud over with the things he couldn't bring himself to say and was only left with, "Please don't take your gun."

Ludwig sighed and said, "Gilbert asked me not to hurt Roderich, so I will leave it here." Then, Germany recalled another phone call and his mouth moved in what would have been a smile if it were not so menacing. "However, I will follow Antonio's advice. I have to make a phone call."

Feliciano clung to his lover in fear of that expression, terrified what it might mean. Spain was usually very cheerful but he was known to have his… moments. If some advice put that look on Ludwig's face then… "Who are you going to call?"

"Scotland. He may want to join us on our trip." Germany paused for a moment before unlocking his cell phone and looked at little uncertain. "You...would you like to come with me."

"Of course," Italy smiled at Germany. "This is family."

Germany nodded and proceeded to dial the phone as Italy thought, _And I am the only one in the world who could possibly stop you from killing him_.

As a nation, Germany had given up war long ago, but Ludwig had a consciousness that was separate from the country he represented and was a military man at heart. If he truly found it necessary for Gilbert's honor, he would harm the musician. The only problem was that if what Roderich said was enough to make even Ludwig lose control, then it would be a toss-up between Feliciano stopping him and offering to hold Roderich down.

* * *

The phone was ringing. The man, looking over some paperwork while he waited for his baking to be finished absentmindedly answered the call after taking a sip of tea. "Hello?"

"Bonjour, Ang-"

_Click._

The personification of England hung up.

Arthur Kirkland returned to his readings, a bit more irritated than he was before. Hanging up the phone without saying a word was not the gentlemanly thing to do, but Francis had used up all his good manners centuries ago. Arthur felt no remorse as he went to sip his tea again. He supposed he would just have to check the caller ID next time.

The timer beeped and he shot out of his seat in excitement. His scones were done! They were white chocolate -raspberry today and smelled divine. He had a sweet tooth this morning and-

The phone rang again.

Good mood immediately soured at the thought of it being Francis again, Arthur pulled his scones out the oven and debated answering, so that he wouldn't be bothered again, or simply putting his phone on silent and ignoring the calls. Being the person that he was, Arthur chose to rip off the band aid instead of pulling it slowly.

"What the bloody hell do you want, frog?"

He was answered with a very distinctive laugh.

"Fusososo, do you answer all of Francis' calls that way?"

Arthur pulled his phone from his ear and checked the name on the screen. Yep, it said 'Frog.' "Oh, Antonio, I'm sorry. I was expecting France."

"Clearly," Antonio said with amusement plain in his voice. "We aren't- okay, _I'm_ not- trying to bother you. We were just looking for your brother."

England sighed. "Which one and what did he do now?"

Spain laughed again. "Oh, come on, Arthur. Tus hermanos are not so bad. And we are looking for Alistair."

England knew full well that his brothers were not as troublesome as they were in the decades and centuries past, but he always expected that to change at any moment and felt no qualms in griping about them. It was his job as the youngest to complain about his siblings, right?

"Can you not just call him? I'm sure Francis has his number. Is Gilbert with you? He always seems to know where his partner in crime is." England shook his head at the memory of the last time he bailed them out of jail, the idiots. What worried him is that they rarely got caught, so goodness only knows what they got up to or how often.

"We called him only to get a busy tone then his voicemail. And we are actually looking for Gilbert. Since Alistair was the one to hide him, we thought we should at least try to ask him where he put our friend!"

"Wait, what do you mean, hide Gilbert?"

"Well you see-"

"Oh, give me zat-"

"But he'll hang up on-"

"Mon ami, you say too-"

There were several scuffling noises as the phone was transferred to Francis who promptly said, "Don't hang up!"

"Put Spain back on, France."

"Non- no, I will not. Do you know where your brother is?"

The accent, as always grated on him. "No, I do not know where my _brother_ is. I'm not his-"

"Can you please ask him to call us?"

Francis said 'please' in a non-condescending way. Arthur was taken aback and began to understand that this was serious. "What's going on, Francis?"

"Gilbert is missing and your brother is the one that helped him disappear. Antonio and I are trying to find him."

Francis was not interjecting French into his sentences and was actually getting to the point. Arthur could note the undertone of worry in his voice and was confused. It didn't sound like Gilbert had finally…faded. But clearly something happened to Prussia to make France and Spain worried about not finding him. Then he had another thought. "And if Gilbert does not want to be found? You and I both know that Alistair won't help you find him if that's the case."

"We know that this is a long shot but it is still a shot, Arthur."

England flinched at the sound of his name. It sounded… wrong. "…I still hate you."

"But you will make the call, anyway. Thank you."

"Goodbye, Francis."

Arthur stared at the phone as he ended the most civil conversation in years with France. As he dialed his brother's number, only to get a voice mail prompt, he sighed and left a message. He always hated it when his brothers (okay, Alistair) never answered the phone. It made him worry.

Turning towards his fast cooling scones, Arthur tried to regain the feeling of peace that settled over him earlier. After a while, the silence of the flat and the echoes from life on the streets of London echoed below caused loneliness to creep in. Hating himself a little, England picked up the phone to call the person he hated to love but couldn't live without and tried to forget the cold feeling in his gut.

* * *

Alistair Kirkland walked through the door of his house and immediately stalked up the stairs in a beeline to his shower, discarding clothes as he went. He had spent the last day and a half outside, just walking. He didn't count the kilometers he walked or the hills he passed and didn't bother to pay attention to his direction. Of course, it was not like he could get lost in Scotland because that would be the same as getting lost while mapping out his own body and be completely absurd but that is beside the point.

Sometimes he would think and sometimes his mind would be peacefully blank when he went on those walks. He never took his cell phone or any technology. It was his time and Alistair hated for it to be interrupted.

Of course, when he was a great distance from his home, clouds began to gather in the once clear night sky and he turned around to begin the trek back. He watched as the stars became obscured and waited for the first drops of rain. They came not ten minutes later. It was a light but constant rain that kept the hills green and lush but also made Alistair soaking wet. When Alistair was finally in sight of his house, the rain stopped and he looked up in disgust at the sky. Then he entered his house with the intention of a hot shower to warm himself.

Under the spray, a tension in his shoulders, set in from the cold, began to ease and his mind began to wander between work, friends and love. He really should read that one report. How was Gilbert doing? Was Matthew handling the change to his schedule? God, it had been so long since he was a colony yet it seemed like yesterday. Alistair felt old and the loneliness that almost always existed at the periphery of his conscious became more prominent. And, as is common in these moments, his mind turned to his brother.

How families worked when it came to the Nations was not exactly clear. There were not families in the human sense of the word, per se. Yes, Ancient Rome was the grandfather of Italy and Romano and the descendants certainly looked like their ancestor but who were their parents? They had none and simply appeared in the hills of the Italian peninsula one day, similar to every other Nation. Were they conjured by human understanding or where there other machinations that he couldn't guess at? Why were they born and when would they die? Or did they die? Prussia didn't with the loss of his nation as a separate entity yet it seemed the Rome was indeed gone. Prussia had a 'brother' but they appeared in their homelands separately and alone, not to meet each other for many years.

The situation with the Kirklands was different. They appeared to have a mother but no father. They were not always known to each other but met each other not long after their making. While the birth of the twins (Ireland and Northern Ireland) is a mystery*, there was always Charles (Wales), Arthur and Alistair. When they were younger, he inexplicably enjoyed pestering Arthur, enjoying how he would turn red with embarrassment and furrow his comically large eyebrows. Something…changed after they went through invasion after invasion during the Dark Ages and he began to feel affection that was clearly not normal for humans. He didn't understand it and the confusion made him lash out at Arthur. It wasn't until Charles sat him down and explained his observations. The part of Alistair that was not his government or his population, the part that was just a not-quite human man, had somehow fallen in love with someone he called brother. Arthur was thankfully oblivious and Charles' understanding helped Alistair from doing something he would regret. For a long time, he wasn't comfortable with his urges, despite the fact that he was not ruled by human morality, and ended up avoiding dealing with England until he decided to incorporate Scotland into his realms. That became a problem.

Alistair sighed and willed the memories away. It was moot point now. Some things were never meant to be and he had finally come to terms with that. It didn't mean moving on was easy but he was trying. It meant that he was in a special position to understand what Gilbert was going through.

Alistair slicked his hair back and shifted his thoughts from his brother by blood to his brother in arms. He would need time. Arthur had rejected him with little gestures over time, clearly unaware of the situation but still rejecting the unspoken opportunity that Alistair represented. It was little but constant pain that was its own kind of torture but it conditioned him to a certain kind of living. Gilbert, though, had had hope until his feelings were knowingly thrown in his face and he watched his heart be ripped out and stomped on. After everything his friend had lost, Roderich was one final piece that, had Alistair been in the same situation, would have made him go over the edge. He would have made the world burn just so it would feel his pain. Yet Gilbert chose to hide it and retreat despite the fact that it was against his very nature to do such a thing.

Alistair would never admit it out loud, but he was in a state of near panic over his friend when Gilbird first arrived at this house nearly a week ago. Roderich was one less thing Gilbert had to live for and his thoughts immediately flew to whether his friend would survive it. Alistair could rarely hide his emotions from Gilbert but he knew he needed to be a strong, steady presence by the time the Prussian arrived. The fact that the act worked with Gilbert spoke to how bad the situation was.

Turning off the water, Alistair reached for the towel and set about going through the motions of getting dressed. Gilbert going to Canada was a good idea, Alistair admitted to himself. Matthew was a neutral party who was kind and, God bless him, a little forgettable, especially in large social settings. How Gilbert even thought of the idea was a mystery to him, considering the two had never met and really seemed like an odd pairing. Alistair frowned, thinking he would have to call to check in with them.

Now fully dressed and with his hair still damp, Alistair reached for his phone. It would be a little past 7 am in Toronto, but Matthew was always an early riser. It was immediately apparent that he had missed several calls. Few bothered leaving messages for him until it was important so he pursed his lips, put the phone on speaker and went about finishing getting ready. His phone went on without him as a disembodied, somewhat stilted voice began to speak.

"You have—five—unheard messages." _Oh, fer goodness sake_ , Alistair thought. _I jus' wanted one dae!_ "First unheard message sent—yesterday—at – twelve twenty-six P. M." A familiar German accent began to boom though the speakers. "'Gut morgen, Alistair. This is Ger-Ludwig and, before you delete this message'"—which Alistair in all honesty was reaching to do so he could hurry this along— "';I am not going to ask you where my brother is. He called me and informed me that he is safe and I suppose that will be enough for now. Besides, I know it would be pointless. I am calling to see if you would like to accompany Feliciano and I to talk'" –read: confront—"'Roderich. It has come to my attention that I do not have the whole story and that what Roderich did was excessive. It was suggested that you did not either. I…I just want to help him, Alistair. I owe him so—It is my duty as his brother to do what I can for him. Either way, we are going but I thought I should at least extend the invitation.'"

The message ended and his phone gave him options as to what to do with the message. For a moment he did nothing. It was the most Ludwig had ever said to him at once. There were actual emotions in his voice. As a whole the message was a bit alarming. Alistair didn't particularly care what Roderich said exactly. Oh, he would make him pay because no one hurt his people and walked away unscathed and Gilbert was decidedly one of _his people_. Ludwig, though, he would care. Alistair hoped there was something left of Roderich for him to deal with if Ludwig didn't like what he heard.

_Nae me problem righ' now,_ he thought, shrugging as he deleted the German's message and moved on. His hair was combed and he just put the tiniest bit of product in his hair as an familiar voice began to speak.

"'Mon ami! I hope zat you are well! I know that are quite adamant about not sharing the whereabouts of nous petit Prus-' Message—erased. Next message sent—yesterday at—four thirty-two P. M. 'Scotland, I know that Francis can come off a little…flamboyant,'" Spain's voice stated rather diplomatically, lacking the cheer that was almost always a pleasant undertone in his voice, "'but please understand that we are just worried about Gilbert. Give one of us a call back, por favor. Please.' End of message."Alistair sighed and deleted the message. He knew that others would be worried but—

"'Alistair, this is Arthur.'" Alistair's body betrayed him as he froze for a second, eyes wide and shocked. Then shame immediately flooded him. He was supposed to be getting better, dammit. The message continued, "'Er, I just received a phone call from that Fro- from Francis and Antonio. They were looking for you. Something about Gilbert? Of course, I told them I had absolutely no idea where you are. I will have you know that I am not your secretary and you should damn well learn to pick up your bloody phone. It's not like I haven't spoken to you in nearly a year! But-'" Arthur cleared his throat, clear to anyone who knew him that he had not meant to say that last part. "'-erm, the point is that you need to pick up your phone once and a while. Right. Goodbye.' End of message." Alistair smiled wryly and chuckled to himself. Arthur never did learn how to end a message naturally. He saved that one.

"Next message. Sent—today at—one fifteen A. M. 'Ah, hi! Hi, Alistair, this is Matthew. Um, I just thought that you should know that everything over here is going well. We have actually become friends! I'm sorry if this woke you but I know that you sometimes have…problems sleeping and thought you would not mind. Feel free to call me back whenever you like. I'm sure that G-he will like to hear from you. He doesn't have his cell phone and so just call my number and I'll find him to hand you off. I must be boring him on some level by now.'" With a self-depreciating laugh which made Alistair frown, Matthew finished with a quick 'bye' before hanging up.

Alistair didn't know whether Gilbert's boredom with Matthew was true or just the product of Matthew's lack of interaction with people outside of his brother who in all honesty had the attention span of a gnat and worse manners than wolves at times. It would just be something he had to talk to them about. Matthew would be up but Gilbert…it was fine. There was someone he wanted to talk to first.

Steeling himself, Alistair smirked as he dialed the phone which was picked up after the first two rings. "I hear ye miss me, brother."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Because Ireland was not partitioned until 1921 but it would make sense for there to be the twins, the origin of the characters confuses me a bit and I don't quite know how to adapt the history to the universe. I could ignore this but once it occurred to me I could not just forget it. Perhaps, before the divide over religion occurred, there was one Ireland. However, as the people divided, the personification adapted and became two separate people, effectively splitting one into two in the way Germany was divided but without the godsend of a pre-existing brother.  
> Also, chapter title is reference to "London Calling" by The Clash


	21. Chapter 20: A Change in Pace

It was Tuesday again. Exactly one week since Gilbert was forcibly reminded about is (lack of) place in the world and decided to disappear. He should still be in the binge eating ice cream/drinking himself under a table phase of heartbreak; maybe even in a state of emotional confusion which bordered on comatose.

But when Gilbert woke up with an overwhelming ache, it was physical rather than emotional and it covered the entire expanse of his body instead of being centralized around his heart. With a groan, he rolled over in bed, lamenting the soreness of his muscles. If he thought he was in pain yesterday…

Yet, when he remembered why he put himself through hell the day before, Gilbert smiled, just a little. The knowledge that he was the first person to do something selflessly for Matthew made him fell like a superhero and, for a moment, could wipe the pain away. Of course, that moment was fleeting and Gilbert was back to being in a breathing body ache in less than a second, but he didn't regret his actions. Not. One. Bit.

Still, stretches and a hot bath seemed necessary if he was to be moving like a human rather than a poorly oiled machine today. Maybe even a massage… thought successfully diverted.

Gilbert honestly could see no way skating today would be easy or enjoyable. The bet dictated that he does whatever Matthew wanted for today and tomorrow and Matthew dictated that hockey was their activity. He was honor-bound to follow though and he fully intended to. Just…after a long, hot bath.

* * *

Matthew was already downstairs, cooking up a late breakfast as he hung up the phone. The phone call he just ended was expected, if a bit late. Excited about the news he received, Matthew began to hum whatever tune came to mind and glanced briefly at the clock, noting the late hour. He allowed himself to sleep longer than usual, feeling a little exhausted from the activity of the past couple days, but happy. He was a firm believer that variety was not a bad thing and French toast with bacon, eggs and strawberries seemed like a good change. If anything, Gilbert's body would surely appreciate the protein after yesterday.

 _Speak of the devil_ , Matthew thought as signs of life began to filter through the ceiling indicating that his friend had emerged from his sleep. The smile that appeared on his face wilted as he noticed a change in the usual nature of the sounds. Gilbert always moved purpose, haste, and feline grace. His footsteps were quick and light, not the sort to cause the haltingly clunky noises filtering down through the ceiling. Yet, clumsy they were and a sudden set of thumps followed by a barely audible groan suggested that Gilbert had actually managed to trip over something, perhaps even his own feet. Matthew winced as he realized the cause in the sudden change to his friend; Gilbert must be significantly sore from yesterday's activities. It only made sense, he supposed. Even though they technically weren't human, the skills Gilbert had learned and had pushed himself to practice for hours the day before took a toll on his body and his progress was astonishing. But that sort of effort should not be duplicated and, Matthew knew, that is exactly Gilbert would do, specifically for him. Why, he couldn't say because it was a completely bizarre concept he had to face: someone going through extraordinary lengths to do something for him.

Mathew had known for years that he was unremarkable. It was just a fact that was ingrained into his psyche from a young age. Alfred was the strong one, the troublemaker, the prize to be fought over viciously. Later, he became the boisterous leader who forced the world to notice him. But Matthew? Matthew who? If he allowed his invisibility to upset him, he would never be anything but. He had accepted it because what else could he do?

So when Gilbert looks at him in a crowd like he is the only one who matters, when he pushes past pain to do something to make Matthew happy, when he seems content just to be with the Canadian, everything Mathew has known about himself for centuries is called into question. If Gilbert can see him for who he is, why not everyone else? Why not Francis, the man who styled himself as a father but gave him up effortlessly? Or Arthur, who became like a second brother? Or even Carlos, with whom he had so much potential? Matthew's hands tightened painfully around the frying pan and spatula, bringing him back to the now slightly burned piece of French toast in front of him and the sound of someone descending the stairs to his right.

Schooling his face, Matthew turned to Gilbert with a welcoming smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. Taking in the tightness around Gilbert's eyes and mouth, even the smile faded. "Gil, are you-"

"Morning, Birdie!" Gilbert responded enthusiastically, obviously trying to act like everything was all right. He was failing, miserably. His posture was too stiff and his eyes were too distracted. He telegraphed his pain to anyone who took the time to look and Matthew was no exception. "Smells good. What did you make?"

Matthew stared at him for a minute then pursed his lips. _Fine_ , he thought. _We won't talk about it._ "Strawberries, eggs, French toast, and bacon. Yours comes with a side of aspirin." He cast a sharp look at the Prussian as he opened his mouth to protest the inclusion of painkillers. "You're not fooling me, Gil. Could you please get yourself something to drink that's not orange juice?

Gilbert, fairly shocked at the sternness in Matthew's voice, could only chuckle as he recognized statement as a politely worded order. A small smirk appeared as he responded with a bemused, "Yes, sir."

Matthew just rolled his eyes at his friend as he finished the last of the toast and flipped the bacon. "I've decided what we're going to do today."

Gilbert looked up from the refrigerator and frowned at Matthew. "What do you mean? I thought you were going to teach me how to play hockey as part of the bet."

Matthew smiled a little as he plated the last of the food. "The deal was that the winner decided what we would do for the next three days. So we'll do _whatever_ I want today and tomorrow, and I don't want to teach you hockey today."

"Is apple juice okay with you, too?"

"Sure."

Gilbert poured two cups of juice and couldn't fight the urge to tease the Canadian. So he made a considering noise in the back of his throat, inviting the predictable frown from Matthew who was retrieving the pills from a drawer on the other side of the kitchen.

"What?"

Placing the glasses on the table, Gilbert grinned as he wiggled his eyebrows at Mathew and said, " _Whatever you want_ , huh?"

Matthew turned red in an instant and gave him a light shove while barely managing to sputter out, "Gil! You know I didn't mean it like that!"

"Right," Gilbert teased as he sat down stiffly. His legs were more than happy with his new position though his bum protested. He couldn't help the slight cringe on his face.

Matthew sat down with a mixed expression of annoyance, amusement and concern. "You're lucky you are in pain right now, otherwise I would be tempted to withhold pancakes until further notice."

Gilbert paused in raising the painkillers to his mouth. "You wouldn't."

Matthew responded with a 'try me' expression on his face as he took the first bite of his food.

"Okay, so maybe you would. Truce?" Taking in Matthew's easy (if a little smug) smile, all was well again. Gilbert began to eat. "Thanks for breakfast, by the way."

"It's no problem. I like cooking."

"It's still appreciated. So, if we aren't skating today, what are we doing?"

"I just got a call from the airport. Apparently, your bike is waiting for you. I was…well." For some reason, Matthew was suddenly embarrassed about his desired activity for the day. He felt his face heat up and he fixed his eyes on his food. "We need to go pick it up today."

Gilbert heard what wasn't being said and asked in a serious tone, "Would you like me to take you for a ride, Birdie?"

Matthew looked up and deep blue met crimson over the food which was forgotten for the moment. "Yes," Matthew said quietly in what was nearly a whisper. Gilbert read the word from his lips more than actually hearing it. His pulse began to pick up and tension grew until Matthew blinked and began to stumble over his words to normalize the space between them. "I mean- if you wouldn't mind? It's just I never been on a motorcycle and-"

"Birdie, I would love to take you. But my bike was custom built for one, I'm sorry. We could try to squeeze two but I don't think that-"

"No, no. It's fine. It was just a thought, that's all." Mathew tried to laugh it off but his disappointment was evident. "We still should go pick up your bike in any case. Then I'm all for a quiet day at home, if you don't mind."

Gilbert chuckled. "Not at all. But we could always rent one. A bike equipped for two, I mean. It wouldn't be difficult."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course," Gilbert resumed eating his breakfast with new purpose. "Wow, this is good. Do you mind if I take a bath first? It might help with the soreness- which isn't all that bad, by the way. I'm fine; I just need a little R&R before I do something too strenuous."

Matthew didn't look any less concerned than he did when Gilbert first mentioned being in pain, but he could take a hint. "Help yourself."


	22. Chapter 21: Reality Check

Matthew's eyes cut in annoyance to his ringing cell phone. He had just settled into his chair in the den, curled around a book he had been meaning to read for a while. While Matthew loved the company that Gilbert provided, he would have gone crazy by now if he didn't enjoy moments to himself. With pursed lips, Matthew picked up his phone only to relax as the caller's ID registered. It was only Alistair returning his call.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Mattie. I go' yer message."

"Right," Matthew uncoiled himself and got to his feet. "Um, Gilbert's taking a bath but I'm sure he won't mind talking to you right now. Give me a sec-"

"Gilly can wait a moment, Mattie. How's it going? He's nae being too much of a bastard, is he?"

Matthew laughed softly into the phone but continued moving towards the stairs. He somehow doubted that the conversation would last long. "Not at all, Alistair. He's really been great. We've been spending a lot of time together and I wouldn't hesitate to call him my friend."

"So he's nae been actin' bored?"

"No, not that I can—oh." Matthew halted his progress on ascending the stairs and frowned. "You're talking about my message. I was just joking."

"I'm nae Alfred, Mattie," Alistair said with a serious tone. "And tha' did nae sound like much of a joke."

Matthew sighed and sat down on the step. While he had more of a connection with Charles, Alistair was the Brit he spoke with the most regularly. The Scot made a point to maintain contact with people he cared about and was always serious about those little check-ins. They only happened every 8 months or so, but were sometimes the only call that wasn't about someone wanting something from him that Matthew had received in the months prior. So if Alistair thought something was honestly wrong, he would want to talk it out. He knew he wasn't the only one to receive this treatment—a lot of the Commonwealth did—but it was still nice.

"That had more to do with me than him—honestly!" Matthew interjected when Alistair made noises like he meant to interrupt him. "You know I don't get much company, let alone for so long, and since no one seems to notice me ever I am having a hard time figuring out how he's not bored out of his mind with me. Sure, I try to make sure we stay busy and he always seems happy just to hang out but I'm not crazy for thinking that he's going to want to leave soon, right? And-"

"Yer ramblin'."

"Right. Bottom line, he's done nothing to make me think that he's bored. In fact, sometimes he-" Matthew stopped himself. _It's not true._ Matthew's brain supplied before his mouth sped ahead of reality. _Wishful thinking on my part, really_.

"He what, Mattie? You can tell me. Whatever it is." Alistair's voice was gentle this time and full of something that Matthew couldn't quite identify.

Matthew bit his lip in hesitation before glancing up the stairs briefly. So quietly Alistair could barely hear him, he said, "Sometimes, he looks at me and I feel like I'm the only person in the room. Like I could never bore him. I know it can't be true and that there's no way he could look at me like that. He's in love or something like it with someone else. There's no way anything else could-" Again, Matthew cut himself off, ashamed of his tone. It was edging on pathetic desperation to his ears, filled with far too much useless hope to be anything but telling.

"Mattie, I do nae know what to say," the tone was reserved, masking and concerned. Matthew would give a good deal to see Alistair's face at that moment, though he would likely have not been able to meet his eyes.

"Please, don't say anything." Mathew gritted his teeth and rose to continue up the stairs at a faster pace. "I'm giving you to Gilbert now. Thanks for getting back to me so fast. Take care and hold on."

Matthew pretended not to hear Alistair's protests through the phone as he pulled it from his head and lifted his hand to knock on the bathroom door.

* * *

Alistair was pissed. He could tell that Matthew was no longer listening to him as he heard a muffled conversation between distant voices. He was already a bit emotionally drained from the surprisingly pleasant conversation with Arthur earlier and he wasn't quite in the mood to deal with the crisis of _feelings_ which seemed to be forming across the pond. He wasn't angry at Matthew. He couldn't be; the tone in his voice clearly made him the victim in this situation. Here he was, faced with the possibility of having a close friend who, Alistair could admit to himself, was certainly worth a little swooning if he dropped the arrogance for a minute. Gilbert was one of the most caring people Alistair knew and, when he called you a friend, he meant it for life. If he had thought things through when Gilbert asked for his help a week ago, he maybe could have seen this coming.

He couldn't really be angry at Gilbert, though that didn't stop him from trying. His friend was in an extremely vulnerable place right now and if becoming Matthew's friend helped, he couldn't exactly argue it. They were grown men, for goodness sake; they could make their own decisions. But at the same time, it looked like Matthew was falling hard for him. It was no secret that Matthew was lonely and Alistair now felt guilty for never visiting him or calling more often than his customary check-ins. So the question was whether Matthew's interest in Gilbert stemmed from him simply being the first person to show interest in him or was encouraged by something Gilbert had done was up in the air.

Either way, Matthew could only be hurt by whatever was between them. As he was interestingly aware of, Gilbert was in love with Roderich. Even if Gilbert wasn't truly in love with him as everyone seemed to want to suggest now that the situation had turned south, the situation still left Gilbert too emotionally compromised to start anything serious. Matthew never seemed the type to do anything casual.

Gilbert could be using Matthew to get over Roderich. The thought made Alistair's blood boil but hadn't he just admitted to himself earlier that, in Gilbert's situation, he would have made the world burn? What's one man's heart compared to the world?

No, Alistair wasn't angry at Gilbert, he had no room to be. He was pissed this was happening at all, at the unacceptable circumstances that left his best friend and his surrogate little brother in a no-win scenario. If things had been different then maybe… well, no matter. He tried to control his helpless fury enough that it would not show in his voice as he spoke to Gilbert. Alistair highly doubted his success.

* * *

Gilbert was relaxing in the hot water when Matthew knocked at the bathroom door. Languid and uncaring, Gilbert said, "Ja?"

"Hey, Gil," Matthew started through the door. Even muffled, Gilbert could tell that something was wrong. It was rough and way too quiet, even for Matthew. He sat up, alert now. Matthew said something else but it was lost to the space between them.

Sparing a glance to the bubble free but cloudy bath water, Gilbert said, "Birdie, I can't hear you. Come on in. I'm mostly decent"

There was silence from the hallway for a moment then the doorknob turned and Matthew stuck his head in, eyes trained on the floor. "Sorry, but Alistair's on the phone for you. Do you mind talking to him now or do you want to call him back?"

Gilbert frowned at the Canadian who was acting much more reserved than Gilbert had seen in the past few days. It was concerning. "Ja, I'll talk to Scottie, but are you all right? You seem… sad."

Matthew's eyes flew to meet Gilbert's, like he was startled that Gilbert picked up on his mood. "I'm fine." Gilbert shot him a look that clearly said, _You wanna try that one again?_ While it didn't make Matthew laugh as intended, it did get him to crack a small smile. "No, really. It's nothing that can be helped right now."

Gilbert still looked concerned but held out his hand for the phone. "Well you know where I am if you want to… if you need something."

A funny look passed Matthew's face before settling into a benign smile. "Thanks." He quickly deposited the phone in Gilbert's hand and fled the room, shutting the door behind him. That left Gilbert with the distinct feeling that he was missing something important and that maybe Alistair would know what caused the change in Matthew's mood.

With his mind on that, Gilbert said, "Hey, Scottie."

"Gilly, what—how are ye doin'?"

The Prussian's frown deepened. Alistair sounded would have sounded appropriately concerned to anyone else but Gilbert didn't miss the undercurrent of heat in his tone. Whatever they had talked about left Alistair angry and Matthew down—not a good sign.

"I'm good. And I'm not just saying that. Birdie's a great host."

" _Birdie_?"

Gilbert rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on. You know how I am with friends, Scottie."

Alistair was silent for a minute and then asked, "What have ye two been doin'?"

Gilbert's expression relaxed as he launched into filling in Alistair. He hadn't been there a week but by the time he was finished explaining why he was soaking in the bath, the water had to be topped off again. His muscles felt better and the stiffness was nothing some stretching couldn't cure; it was time to get out.

"—Truthfully, meeting Birdie was probably the best possible thing that could have come out of this mess with Specs. Hanging out with him is so easy and he's so awesome, Scottie, and I really mean that. Hang on for a second." Gilbert stood up and placed the phone on the counter by the sink. He reached to the drain to pull the plug and quickly dried himself. He knew Alistair did not appreciate being on hold for longer than a minute and made sure to pick up the phone as soon as possible. "Hey, sorry about that."

"It's fine."

Gilbert paused in wrapping the towel around his waist, phone tucked between his ear and shoulder. Alistair's tone was…off. It was not often that Gilbert could not read his friend and this was one of those moments. If he had to place it, he would almost say that Alistair's voice was careful. He finished securing the towel and gripped the phone in his hand. "What is it?"

He was met with silence.

Enough time passed that Gilbert was able to leave the bathroom and close his bedroom door. "Come on, Scottie, now I'm getting-"

"Gil- Gilbert, I need ye ta listen very carefully ta me. I know you-"

"Wait, wait. I feel like I should be wearing pants for this conversation. I need thirty seconds." Gilbert threw the phone on the comforter and rushed to pull on a clean set of clothes, his mind racing. He could count on one hand the times Alistair had chosen to use such a tone with him since they became friends centuries ago and it was only in dire situations. Something had to be desperately wrong for him to use it now, but nothing came to Gilbert as he picked up the phone again, frowning. With not a little concern in his voice, Gilbert continued, "I'm sorry. Please go on; I'm listening."

Alistair audibly cleared his throat and, seeming to rethink his original statement, said, "Gilly, we have been mates for a time and ye are like kin ta me. Mattie's tha same, though fer different reasons. Ye both are grown men with a good heid on yer shoulders and will make yer own damn decisions but a man has a right to worry about his family."

Alistair paused, gathering his thoughts, and Gilbert responded with, "Scottie, I appreciate the sentiment, I do, but you have not been the careful with your words since—" _since I found out about your feelings for Arthur_ , he thought, "well, for years. It's more alarming than anything else. Please just spit it out, whatever it is."

Alistair huffed on the other end of the phone and Gilbert could easily imagine his friend rolling his eyes. At least all pretense was dropped when he said, "Wha' tha _hell_ do ye think yer doin'?"

"Wha-?"

"Ye are in no state to be romancin' Mattie! Och, and dae nae try ta deny that's _exactly_ what yer doin'. Between tha love-struck praises ye've been singin' and the knots ye have him worked into, it's clear as day. Noo, I can see tha' ye would make a fine enough match if matters were settled an' I reckon I would have given me blessin' under different circumstances but it has been little more than a week since you left tha' bastard. If ye think I was just going ta let this pass, then yer aff yer heid!"

"Do you think I wanted this?" Gilbert had begun pacing after the initial shock wore off during Alistair's little tirade and was now pinching the bridge of his nose. He wanted to be angry and his first instinct was to lash back, but he knew his friend was right about the timing of it all. It was that specific issue which gave him pause in the first place.

"Och, dae nae pull that card with me. We're both too auld."

"Scottie, I'm serious."

"As am I!"

"Don't you think I considered that very issue before? You're right, I'm too old to not think things like this through and if I had any other choice, I would take it. But Bi-Matthew makes me happy to exist again, just by being himself. Only a fool would let someone like that go without a fight and I am done being a fool."

Alistair was silent for a moment before continuing, more serious than before. "I hear ye, Gilly, but hear me noo. There is always a choice. I wish ye both happiness and I love ye, but Mattie has very few people he trusts let alone likes. I'm convinced ye have good intentions, but we both ken where that leads. If ye hurt him with yer foolishness, I will skin ye alive."

Gilbert stopped his movements and stood ramrod straight for a moment in shock. He never thought there would be a time when he and Alistair would be on such different side of things. But, after a moment, he decided that they were not after all. "If I hurt him, I'll let you."

"Good."

Gilbert's mouth quirked to the side, a shadow of his characteristic smirk. "So… Birdie's twisted up in knots you say?"

"Och, fer fuck's sake! _Goodbye_ , ye eejit, and get a damn phone." Alistair was gone.


	23. Chapter 22: Hang Tight

Matthew didn't know what exactly Alistair had said to Gilbert, but his friend was in a…strange mood. There wasn't any one thing Matthew could put his finger on and say, _see, look, something is wrong, something happened_ , but that didn't stop the insistent feeling that something had changed.

When Gilbert had come down the stairs to leave, moving with much more ease than before, everything seemed the same. Sure, they seemed to make contact more often than not as they chatted through feeding their animal companions, but there was only so much room in the kitchen. The triumphant smile Gilbert wore after making nice with Kumajiro and Maple was completely warranted, even if it made Matthew turn away to fight off a quick blush. Kumajiro didn't like most people (and absolutely _despised_ Alfred) and to have him warm up to Gilbert was a very good thing, something to be proud of and nothing to flush over. The soft smile sent Matthew's way moments later when he greeted Gilbird after the small yellow fluff ball landed on his shoulder was nothing. It made perfect sense that they should be mutually happy their furred and feathered friends approved of them.

If Gilbert's eyes flashed a little brighter with _something_ then it was just a trick of light. If the Prussian seemed a little closer, always within touching distance, it was only because they were heading towards the car and he was anxious to retrieve his bike. If Matthew thought that Gilbert seemed to be looking at him longer, seemingly looking for something only to smile as if he found it, he was clearly imagining things. Gilbert was just double checking that he was riding ready. In his only pair of leather boots, a pair of jeans, a close cut leather jacket, and gloves in his pocket, Matthew was as ready as he was going to get. That smile, though, made his hands tighten on the steering wheel and the temperature seem to rise in the vehicle. If Matthew thought that it was _knowing_ , but that was insane because Gilbert _couldn't know_. Alistair surely didn't say anything to Gilbert, right? Matthew stuttered in response to whatever Gilbert said as a streak of fear went through him at the thought.

Pulling himself together, Matthew continued to act like the conversation between him and Gilbert was like any other they had shared in the past few days. It became easier to distract himself from his pounding heart as Gilbert made him laugh with tales of his escapades with France and Spain. When Matthew responded in kind with the utterly idiotic things other countries did in front of him, an equilibrium seemed to be established and Matthew stopped worrying. Gilbert was laughing, clutching his sides at the narration of the set-up and outcome of a multinational prank on England that Canada had done nothing to stop. There was nothing strange about that.

Then they pulled up to a stop light and Matthew looked over Gilbert with a laugh at his friend's joy only to catch a glimpse of _something_ in his eyes. It was gone too fast to name but Matthew's laugh died all the same. Suddenly nervous, Matthew bit his lip, blinked and turned back to the road. Still, they talked and teased each other but there was a new tension in the air. As they approached the airport and pulled into the hanger, which housed Gilbert's bike, Matthew tried to describe the feeling, thinking a label would make his breath steady and his heart calm. It occupied part of his mind as Matthew helped smooth the bureaucratic process of retrieving a motorcycle from an international flight.

 _Dangerous_ , his mind finally supplied as he watched Gilbert sling a leg over the bike. Gilbert looked back at him once he was astride and smiled wickedly as he said, "Try to keep up, Birdie."

Matthew made a show of rolling his eyes while he fisted his hands out of sight. Gilbert put on his helmet and revved his motorcycle before rolling towards the entrance, looking for all the world like he belonged there. Matthew followed but suddenly felt parched.

 _Yeah,_ he thought, _dangerous fits_. He couldn't say if the fact the notion made him breathless with a sudden rush of adrenaline was good or bad. Matthew could only pray that it wouldn't stop.

* * *

Roderich looked up from his paperwork at the knock at his office door. Glancing at the clock, he frowned only to vaguely recall his assistant mentioning something about a meeting and Nations passing through his boarders earlier. He wasn't particularly paying attention what Andi had said through the pre-coffee haze that was most early mornings, but it seemed like this was about the time he mentioned. He sighed to himself then said, "Komm rein."

The professional smile he had plastered on his face froze when Austria registered exactly who walked in the door.

"Hallo, Roderich."

"Ciao, Mr. Austria."

"Ludwig, Feliciano, what a… surprise to see you," Roderich said, trying for all the world to act normal. He wasn't quite alarmed, though he was getting there. _Ludwig always acts gentler around Feliciano_ , he told himself, _not to mention they made a formal appointment. It will be fine._ Austria assured himself enough to say with his usual aristocratic air, "What brings you to my office today?"

Germany smiled. It was not a nice smile.

Italy smiled. It was wide and happy, except for his eyes. They were fully open and dead, dead, dead.

"We just came here to talk," Ludwig said in an utterly professional voice. "Nothing to concern yourself over."

Roderich was trying to act normally but both Ludwig and Feliciano saw just how nervous he was. That was not a good sign at all. "What would you like to discuss?" the Austrian asked.

"How about you tell us _exactly_ what happened between you and my brother and we will go from there."

Feliciano shut the door.

* * *

Vash Zwingli frowned at the knock at his office door. It wasn't Lilli by the sound of it, he didn't have an assistant, and he was not expecting any visitors. He had come in not an hour before, intent on finishing a pile of paperwork and reviewing the day's financial reports. Vash hated both but he refused to slack off. Years of hardship drove him to ensure that it would never happen again and he never shirked from his administrative responsibilities as a result. Any interruption would tempt him to leave these for another day and would not be welcome. His frown turned into a scowl as the knock repeated itself, more insistent than before. He snapped out, "Was ist es?"

To his confusion, Hungary poked her head into his office. He was well aware that she had crossed his border earlier that day, as she had done so many times before. She was friends will Lilli and visited periodically, but Elizabeta had never stopped to see him. If her appearance made him nervous, he would never admit it.

"Hungary, if you're looking for Lilli, you've come to the wrong place," Vash said allowing all his irritation to show through.

"Oh, Vash, lighten up," she said, sweeping into the room. "Of course I know where Lilli is. I'm here to see you."

Vash lifted an eyebrow and pursed his lips. "Well, what is it? I'm quite busy and would like to get back to work as soon as possible."

For some reason, his abruptness made her smile, her eyes filled with what Vash would swear to be unholy glee. "Oh yes," she said, almost to herself. "This will work out just fine. I don't know why I didn't think of it before!"

Deeply unsettled, as any sane person would be, Switzerland began, " _What_ are you—"

"You know," she began as if Vash hadn't been speaking, "I was just on my way to my dear ex-husband's house for dinner and I couldn't help but think that you would be an excellent addition to the evening."

" _You thought what?_ "

"That you would make an excellent guest, do keep up, dear." Elizabeta sat in the lone chair in front of Vash's desk. He really did not like the way she seemed to make herself comfortable. "I just talked to your lovely sister the other day and she is really starting to worry about you. Apparently you have no fun and don't socialize _at all_ , which just isn't healthy."

"What? I sociali- no, that is not the point. What business of yours involves my social life?"

Elizabeta smiled. Vash did not like that smile. "I simply don't want Lilli worrying and what's the harm in extending a dinner invitation? It's one evening, Vash. One short meal that would ease her woolgathering and get me to leave your office."

"Well, if it is bothering Lilli…" Vash also really needed Elizabeta to leave. "I suppose I can attend one dinner."

"Brilliant!" Elizabeta sprung out of her seat and grinned. "Supper is at seven. You know where Roderich lives, of course."

"About that," Vash began, hesitant. "Does Austria know you invited me or am I—"

Elizabeta blinked then said, "Of course he knows. When I brought it up as a suggestion he was quite pleased, though the lunk would never say so. Truthfully," she lowered her tone conspiratorially, "I think he misses being your friend and has been too afraid to approach you himself."

"Really?" Vash asked before he could stop himself, immediately cursing his voice. He sounded disgustingly, tellingly hopeful to his own ears, so he immediately followed it with, "Well, I just don't want to be rude, showing up at Austria's home without warning. I _hate it_ when people show up unannounced." To add effect, he scowled at the country that was _still in his office_.

"I'll see you at seven, Vash. Don't be late!" Elizabeta left the room, the door shutting behind her with a soft click.

It only took a moment for Vash to groan and put his head in his hands. Why the hell did he agree to go to dinner at Roderich's of all places? While there was a time when he would have been thrilled at the prospect, that time had long passed. He left behind that childish infatuation centuries ago as life left him bitter and aching. Vash had survived everything the world threw at him, including Roderich's betrayal. He knew himself enough to acknowledge that any romantic entanglement would be a pipe dream and tiresome. He didn't need it and his wants were inconsequential.

For some reason, that logic didn't stop how attuned his body was to Roderich, his presence a low key buzzing in the back of his mind if they were in the same room. It certainly didn't stop the impossible dreams his subconscious periodically forced on him while he slept. Vash shouldn't be excited deep down that Elizabeta thought Roderich wanted to see him, even though he was about 60% sure she was lying about the whole thing for her own unfathomable reasons.

So, in spite of himself, Vash was going to that dinner. May the universe have mercy on him.

* * *

"…So that's everything. Not much to tell, really. I did try to stop him from leaving but I don't think he heard me."

"Not that it would have mattered if it did."

Roderich looked up in shock at the coldly enraged voice, surprised that it was not the baritone of Ludwig but the tenor of Feliciano. Ludwig similarly looked at his partner but instead of surprise, approval mixed with the sadness and rage in his gaze. In sharp contrast with Ludwig's tense posture, Feliciano was so relaxed he was nearly slumped in is seat. When he lifted his eyes from casually examining his nails, Roderich couldn't completely hide his flinch at the sharpness there. He was abruptly reminded of Antonio's visit just days before and his fight or flight response kicked in.

"Look, this is Gilbert. We all know he will bounce back like he always does from things like this. I mean, it's not like he actually—" Roderich cut himself off, aware that nothing he was going to say would have helped him.

"You think my brother was unaffected," Ludwig said, his voice flat and cold.

Feliciano said nothing.

The silence stretched. Germany met Italy's eyes and they seemed to have a complete conversation in an instant. Roderich just tried his hardest not to break the silence, as he did at the last confrontation over this issue. _Mein Gott_ , he thought to himself, _Gilbert's absence is causing just as much hassle as his presence. Well at least this won't last very-_

"There is nothing overt we can do to you, not in the present age," Ludwig began, frustration laced through his voice. "I would like nothing more than to throttle you, for you are the type of scum who would tell a person who has lost as much as my brother that you wished he was dead."

"Gilbert's not still affect—"

"You don't see the days he won't leave his room or the empty look in his eyes when he goes silent for hours, staring at nothing. He acts normally until he doesn't. He is so fucking hopeless some days, I can't—no, that is his pain and you are not entitled to it."

"You are entitled, however, to love or not love who you want," Feliciano spoke up, tone measured. "If you had just said no, we would not be here. Gilbert understands no. What you did was completely uncalled for and sadistic. You know what family means to me, Roderich, and what Gilbert means to his brother."

Realizing the situation fully, Roderich smiles, triumphant. He barked out a laugh, relieved. "But you can't do a thing to me. I will walk away from this unscathed and free at last of Gilbert's presence, protected by the fear of war."

"We are not as petty as you," Ludwig said, enraged at the Austrian's smugness. But he was correct, for now.

"Oh, Roderich," Feliciano said, pity in his voice. "We will not wage war on your people, for they are blameless. But you have gained the personal animosity of people more powerful than you. If you think we are going to let this go, you are a fool." Feliciano closed his eyes and seemed to shake himself.

When he spoke again, looking at Ludwig he said in his normal voice, "Ve~ come on, Luddy. I think we've wasted enough time here, no?"

Ludwig looked at the love of his life and smiled again. "Yes, Feliciano, I think you are right."

Ludwig stood and offered a hand to Feliciano. The smile Italy gave him was brilliant as he stood and they both moved towards the door.

Roderich, not one for being ignored, called out, "I will see you both at the world meeting in two weeks."

Ludwig tensed but kept walking. Feliciano followed but stopped at the door. Still with his happy voice, he said, "Mr. Austria, if we were human there wouldn't be enough of your body left to identify." Feliciano smiled and then left, soon heard chattering at Ludwig about lunch.

As the door finally closed, Roderich said to himself, smiling slightly, "But we are not human." Reassured, he went back to work.

* * *

Antonio let out a groan of frustration as he flopped back on Francis' chaise lounge. He knew his friend hated it when he abused the furniture, but Spain couldn't bring himself to care at the moment. They had been looking for days and still had no clue where Gilbert was. They had to stop to do work but they still were working every contact they had to find their friend to no avail. It was discouraging to say the least. Antonio missed Lovino and his home. He refused to give up on his friend but there was only so much they could do. They had responsibilities and lives and Gilbert could be hiding anywhere. He voiced his concerns to France, who was sipping a rather large glass of wine in the chair across the room.

"I do not know what to say, mon ami, for you are correct. I have called every—" Francis stopped speaking and sat straight up. He had forgotten one person, the one person no one ever thought of. He felt bad for a moment, only to shrug it off as he went for the phone. God bless his former colony but Matthew was a bit forgettable for the second largest country in the world. He should of thought of him earlier, but it was no use dwelling on it. "I have one person to call."

"Who's that?"

"Canada."

* * *

Matthew and Gilbert were enjoying a brief lunch before heading to the car rental office when the Canadian's phone rang. The ringtone was jarringly loud and Matthew, startled, let out a little "eep" at the sudden noise. Gilbert grinned at the Canadian's reaction and Matthew just rolled his eyes at him.

"I'm just going to turn the ringer off. I'm not rude enough to actually…" Gilbert watched Matthew blanch as he turned the ringer off but stared at the display. "I'm sorry I might have to—"

"You know I don't care if you answer the phone, right? It's not like there's anyone else around to bother," Gilbert gestured at the tables around them on the café's patio, empty due to the chilly weather. "Besides you look—"

"It's Francis, Gil."

The phone rolled over to voicemail while they stared at each other. "Oh," Gilbert said.

"Are you… do you want to talk to him?"

"Not particularly." Gilbert really didn't want to talk about what happened last week _again_ , not when he was enjoying himself. Talking it out with someone else seemed pointless and he was dealing with it as best as he could. Francis and Antonio wouldn't believe that, would want to see him and coddle him. Gilbert loved them both but they were more open with their affection than he was and the thought of dealing with it stuck him as overwhelming at the best of times and unbearable now.

Gilbert was aware that Matthew was looking at him with concern but he didn't comment. Dammit, the day had been going so well.

Matthew's phone notified him of a new voicemail.

"Is-is it because you don't want him to know where you are or you don't want to talk about Roderich?"

"A bit of both," Gilbert said, cringing internally at how that sounded. "You know how Francis is when he gets concerned, right?"

Matthew's mouth twisted wryly, "No, not really."

"What," came the confused inquiry.

Matthew waved his hand again, dismissing the question. "That doesn't matter now, we are talking about _you_ , remember? What does Francis do that you want to avoid?"

Gilbert wasn't satisfied but said anyway, looking down, "He smothers you in concern. He worries so much that he calls multiple times a day and shows up out of the blue to check on you. It's well meant and sincere but kind of suffocating. I became pretty self-sufficient centuries ago, so that level of outside involvement is very uncomfortable. I don't have the heart to tell him that his concern is distressing in itself, so I usually avoid him if something isn't quite right. Antonio is not much better. He shares my brother-in-law's penchant for endurance hugs."

"So seeing them after this…"

"Is not something I look forward to, to be completely honest, even if it makes me feel like a heel for saying so."

"Gil," Mattie began, reaching across the table to grip Gilbert's hand, causing the Prussian to raise his eyes to his companion once more. Matthew's eyes were kind as he continued, "there's nothing wrong with wanting to work through pain in a way that makes you the most comfortable. It doesn't mean you love them any less or are a bad person, it's just you doing what's healthy for you. I won't tell him where you are. I promise not to until you are ready."

Gilbert could clearly see that Matthew meant it. A ghost of a smile went across his face as he said, "Thank you, Birdie."

"Though…" Matthew bit his lip, hesitant to continue but working through it. "Maybe you should call them, too, like you did with Ludwig? That way they can know you're alright beyond whatever Ludwig told them."

"You might be right about that."

After they finished their lunch in comfortable silence, Matthew listened to Francis' voicemail while waiting for Gil to return from the bathroom. Unsurprisingly, the message was entirely in French.

"'Hello, Matthew I hope you are well. I am sorry it has been so long since we have spoken but you know how work gets! Anyway, I was calling to see if you had perhaps received a notice that Gil-Prussia had entered your borders within the past week? You see, Spain and I are looking for him, so if you could call me back as soon as you get this, that would be wonderful. I hope to hear from you soon!' Message deleted."

"What's wrong, Birdie?" Gilbert said as Matthew pulled the phone from his ear and hit a few buttons.

"Gil, they aren't just concerned," Matthew said, realizing the implications of the message. "They are actively looking for you."

Gilbert cursed.

* * *

While Francis was on the phone with his former territory, Antonio looked towards his buzzing phone, frowning at the blocked number. He usually let those roll over into voicemail but considering the circumstances… "¿Bueno?"

"Hey, Tony."

"Gilbert!" Francis whipped his head around and began to quickly end his phone conversation as he stepped towards Antonio. "Where the everloving fuck are you? Are you okay? We heard from Ludwig that you are but you know us. We've been looking for you and have been worried out of our minds and _don't you ever fucking do this again, you son of a bitch, do you hear me?_ "

Francis plucked the phone out of Antonio's hand and turned on the speaker phone. "Mon ami, it is good to hear from you."

"Yeah, sorry it took me so long to call you. I just wanted to get settled first. And I knew West would talk you both, so you shouldn't have been so worried."

"What the fuck else would we be?! Especially after we got the full story out of that Austrian prick—"

"What do you mean, you 'got the full story?'"

Francis sighed, "What Antonio means, mon petit Prussian, is that we paid your near paramour a visit to try to understand where you possibly have gone. I- _we_ are so, so sorry about what happened."

There was a moment of silence then Gilbert replied in a more subdue voice, "I would have never had you two know about all that, but what's done is done."

"Mi amigo, we would kill him for you if you asked."

Gilbert gave a soft laugh, as far from his trademark cackle as can be, "I appreciate that, I truly do, but please don't. Specs had no obligation to return my feelings, of course and, while his delivery left much to be desired," Francis let out a scoff and Antonio made a little distressed sound, "it really was for the best. It woke me up to a few things and has led me to… well let's just say I'm happy with where I am."

Francis spoke again, "Gilbert, mon ami, please let us help you. You shouldn't be alone right now."

Antonio agreed, "Yes, please come home."

"Guys, I love you both, you know that, but I left for a reason. I'm doing what feels right and when I'm ready I'll come back, but you need to stop looking for me."

"How could we possibly-"

"That's not going to-"

"I mean it, both of you," Gilbert insisted.

"Can you at least tell us where you are?"

Gilbert let out a laugh, "So you can show up out of the blue when you should be working? I must awesomely decline." More seriously, he followed with, "I'm fine, guys. There really is no need to worry. And please stop looking. It will only stress me out to know you both are wasting time looking all over creation for me."

Francis and Antonio said nothing and looked at each other, trying to decide what to do. Francis shook his head, wanting to not give up but Antonio understood what Gilbert was asking. He nodded.

Gilbert, who could see none of this, decidedly did not like the silence. "I need a promise from both of you that you will stop."

Antonio spoke first. "I promise, mi amigo. Whatever you need, I will try to do, even if it feels wrong."

Francis was more reluctant. "I promise, but you must also promise to call us _immediately_ if you need something. I do not like that you are alone right now. I do not like it at all."

Gilbert laughed low and smug, telling both France and Spain that he was smirking. "I never said I was alone." A click sounded as Gilbert hung up, leaving Francis and Antonio bewildered.

"He can't mean he…"

"No! Of course not _already—"_

"Well he did sound much better than I thought but surely…"

"Right and he wouldn't want that so soon after…

"Unless—"

A shared silent _oh my god_ passed between the two friends and Antonio began laughing. There was a clear hysterical edge to it, brought on by relief and disbelief. Francis found himself pulled into the same laughing fit. By the end, they were clutching each other to stay upright because here they were, intensely worried over a lovesick friend who had somehow found himself a romance on the run. Their options were either to laugh at the realization or to cry.

"Well, at least we know why no one has 'seen' Gilbert," finally Antonio said.

"Oui, my friend. He found someone who was willing to lie for him. Let's just hope this ends better than the last, non?"

* * *

Elizabeta was thrilled. Her moment of inspiration in the morning to just put the two targets—no, she means lovebirds, of course—in a room together to see how they would react went swimmingly. Roderich returned home in such a good mood that he barely even batted an eye at Elizabeta's sudden announcement that he was having a small dinner party. While that seemed to sour a bit when told that the third guest was Switzerland, something akin to reckless determination crossed his face and he went right back to his cheerful mood.

When Vash had arrived (exactly on time, she might add), things were a bit awkward between them, but Elizabeta used her considerable skills to smooth that right over. Now, she was leaning out of the kitchen where she was supposed to be checking on the dessert that she knew was perfectly ready to sp—check on them! Left alone, things seemed to be quiet but Vash was actually making an effort to be social and Elizabeta knew Roderich well enough to catch the interest in his eyes.

Roderich said something that made Vash, _Vash_ of all people, blush and look away. Elizabeta's heart fluttered and she retreated to the kitchen to celebrate her victory freely. Those two had been alone for far too long and she might have just ended that. They certainly deserved happiness. Elizabeta just loved it when things went according to plan.

* * *

The bike that Gilbert chose was a 2010 Suzuki Hayabusa. While they waited, Gilbert briefed Matthew on how to be a good passenger, having heard the lecture Ludwig gave to Feliciano every time they went out. Matthew nodded, committing the information to memory as he clutched his new helmet in his hands. He was nervous but in the way that he was nervous every time before a heliskiing jump or particularly difficult (but manageable) climb. When the bike was pulled around and Gilbert mounted, the adrenaline spiked and Matthew was nearly shaking in anticipation.

Remembering Gilbert's instructions, Matthew waited for the okay before he got on from the left side of the bike. Gilbert looked back at him, his helmet on but his visor up. His voice came out muffled but concerned as he said, "Alright?"

Matthew smiled and said, "Perfect." He put his helmet. Gilbert nodded, flipped his visor down and started the bike. The rumble was loud as Matthew leaned forward to grasp the passenger handles, his front to Gilbert's back. He was suddenly thankful for the bit of space between their hips. Gilbert revved the bike once and then they began to move.

Matthew was glad he was the passenger because it was all he could do to hold on tight. Gilbert, ever considerate, made sure to go slowly, sticking to city streets and gentle turns, getting Matthew used to the feeling of riding. About 15 minutes in, Gilbert stopped to check that he was fine.

They pulled into a parking lot of a strip mall on the edge between the greater part of the city and suburbia. Gilbert put the kickstand down and turned off the bike. It took Matthew a moment to realize that Gilbert was trying to turn towards him, only unable to because Matthew was still plastered to his back. When he did, Matthew jerked his hands from the passenger grip and similarly lifted his visor.

Laughing at himself, Matthew said, "Sorry, Gil. What's up? Did you want to stop to buy something?"

Gilbert's face shifted from slightly concerned to amused. "No, especially not since I just got my phone," he said. "I just wanted to check on you. Are you okay with this?"

Matthew blinked at him only to smile enough that his eyes crinkled. "Yes, I'm fine. Actually, um." Matthew bit his lip again, the gesture hidden by the helmet but not lost on Gilbert. "Would you mind going a little faster? I think I can handle it."

Gilbert's eyes were smiling when he answered, teasingly. "Good to know. Wouldn't want you to wimp out on my version of fun so early."

Matthew swatted his shoulder, only to have his hand come to rest on Gilbert's hip. "Please. Can you really imagine me wanting to avoid something dangerous and exhilarating?"

"That's right, how could I forget what an adrenaline junkie you are?"

"Just drive, will you."

So Gilbert drove.

He drove on highways through the pre-rush hour traffic, cautiously venturing to weave between the cars, encouraged by Matthew pressing tighter against him. Matthew didn't realize how unnecessarily close he was to Gilbert, too wrapped up in the feeling of grounded flying. Gilbert picked up his speed once they were outside the city and Matthew only knew that he was still breathing because he was aware enough to feel Gilbert against him.

Eventually, they pulled into Matthew's driveway, with three-quarters of the gas tank burned away and Canada clinging to Prussia's waist. Matthew extracted himself from his friend when the engine cut off and dismounted when the okay was given. He removed his helmet and ran a quick hand through his hair, stands catching on the stitching of the glove. He felt keyed up and energized enough to run a marathon. He turned back to Gilbert in time to see him remove his headgear. "Gil, that was _amazing_. Thank you so much for taking me—" Matthew cut himself off, grateful that what he left in the air was a complete sentence. Losing the ability to speak from looking at his friend wasn't exactly something that could be written off. Gilbert was flushed, with pupils blown and focused on him, lips parted. With his hair in disarray aided by a quick ruffle from his hand, he looked deliciously debauched and Matthew didn't have the wherewithal to know what, if anything, to do about it.

"Believe me, Birdie, it was my pleasure."

 _Clearly_ , Matthew thought then blinked rapidly, mentally shook himself, and smiled. "I think I can call this day a success." Matthew turned towards the door and shot over his shoulder a question about dinner, trying his hardest not to think about anything. He had decided before Gilbert would have to be the one to approach him, if any approaching was to be done. Gilbert was the one recovering from an emotional trauma and Matthew refused to press him for anything at all.

He was so busy thinking about nothing that he didn't realize that his pupils were just as wide as Gilbert's since he got off the bike.


	24. Chapter 23: On the Precipice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning for mentions of suicidal thoughts.

(Day 1, Wednesday)

Matthew, on his hard-won third day of choosing what to do, decided that this was a perfect day to stay home. When he told Gilbert that morning, the expression he received involved a raised eyebrow.

"What?" he asked, feeling a bit defensive for some reason. "I can have a lazy day."

Gilbert only raised his hands in surrender and smiled

The morning was unseasonably warm for late September, so Matthew opted to read outside. He had lain on the grass for about an hour, his head pillowed on his usual light jacket when Gilbert asked if he could join him. Matthew only smiled and nodded in response, still wrapped up in the plot of the novel on his chest. His friend laid beside him, close enough that their shoulders were almost touching, and began to read a book of his own. He didn't have much left to read of the Wilde novel, but he made no attempt to move once he was finished. He seemed content just to lay there in silence. Matthew noticed this after some length of time. He was puzzled as he first took in the small smile on Gilbert's face as he looked at the passing clouds then closed his eyes for a long moment.

Matthew was starting to think his friend had fallen asleep when Gilbert turned his head to look at the Canadian. Matthew startled, became uncomfortably aware of the fact that he had been staring and how creepy that was. The blush was instant but Matthew fought the instinct to hide. Instead, he smiled.

Gilbert seemed surprised but pleased as the smile was returned. He said, teasing, "You're looking a little red there, Birdie. Did you forget your sunscreen?"

Matthew groaned and dropped his book over his face with one hand while the other swatted at Gilbert. They both damn well knew that Nations healed too fast for a sunburn to take. Miserably, Matthew said,

"I just looked over to check if you had fallen asleep, Gil." Matthew then mumbled under something his breath that Gilbert didn't quite catch but he could tell wasn't exactly complimentary. Pleased at the thought of Matthew being driven to rudeness, he called him out on it.

"What was that? I could have sworn you said something."

Embarrassed and heading towards exasperation, Matthew moved the book enough to narrow his eyes at his friend. He clearly repeated what he said, only to have his volume stolen by the pages in front of his mouth. Gilbert sat up and grinned down at him. Clearly, disgustingly delighted at the whole situation, Gilbert continued,

"Now you know I can't hear you like that. I'm starting to think you actually might have said something mean! At this point, I really must assume the worst—"

Matthew sat up quickly and pulled the book down to his lap as he said, rather loudly, "I _said_ , 'You're a fuckin' jerk.'"

Gilbert feigned being shocked in the most cliché way possible. He dropped his jaw, widened his eyes, and put a hand over his chest. "Well, I _never_ —"

Matthew made a noise of extreme frustration and shoved Gilbert a bit as he stood. Gilbert allowed himself to fall over as he burst into laughter. It covered Matthew's continued muttering as he strode towards the door, "Goddamn jerk, cannot believe I didn't see it before…You bring a man into your home…" A thought occurred to Matthew as he turned to enter the kitchen that should stop Gilbert's reveling. He called over his shoulder, "I guess you don't want lunch then?"

It worked.

Gilbert looked up quickly and said, "Wait, what?"

Pressing the advantage, Matthew continued, "You know how long it takes to make pancakes? Well, not that long when you have the right ingredients, but we really have been running low on some things. Maybe I shouldn't…" Matthew trailed off as he moved into the house.

"No, Birdie, Mattie, wait a second, stop. I'm _sorry_!"

* * *

It was Matthew's idea to have a movie marathon that evening. It was Gilbert's to have them supply alcohol fueled commentary throughout.

It was also his idea to look up drinking games for every movie they watched.

By the time they were halfway through the second movie ( _The Two Towers,_ the special extended edition), a pizza box and a once full bottle of Scotch lay empty and Gilbert's head was pillowed on Matthew's leg. Matthew had a vague feeling of being flustered but he was pleasantly warm and it was nice and why was he flustered again?

When the buzz wore off, Matthew was very aware that he had been carding his hand through Gilbert's short hair for a while and that his friend was making absent pleased noises every few minutes as the movie drew to a close. Despite the obvious mutual attraction between them, this was something friends did with each other, right? He fretted for a minute until finally giving a mental shrug.

 _What does it matter if this is normal_ , he thought. _I'm happy, he seems happy, and we are probably both a little touch-starved. I'll stop looking for a problem and just let myself be happy for once while I can. It won't last but I'll be damned if I let it pass easily._

When the movie ended, Gilbert got up to change the disc to their final movie of the night, _The Princess Bride_. Kumajiro, Gilbrid, and Maple had joined them when the hobbits had discovered the pipe-weed, so Gilbert had to maneuver around a polar bear that had decided that directly in front of the DVD player was the perfect spot to lie down. Matthew laughed out loud as Gilbert tripped a bit on the way back to the couch, earning a look of disapproval from Kumajiro and a squawk from Gilbird from his perch on Maple's (sleeping) head. This led to Gilbert shooting his bird a look of betrayal as he sat on the couch and pressed play on the remote.

Matthew was waiting for Gilbert to lay down again and looked up to find him frozen in indecision. Matthew, driven from his earlier pep talk, rolled his eyes and said, "Scoot over."

Gilbert frowned a little before making his face blank and moving further away from Matthew. Canada sighed, managed to not shake his head, and promptly lay down, using Gilbert as a pillow. He had to adjust his glasses a bit but he was otherwise comfortable. When Gilbert didn't relax, he rolled onto his back and looked up at Prussia before asking hesitantly, with doubt creeping in, "Do…you want me to move?"

Gilbert blinked down at the man in his lap and noticeably relaxed. "No, Mattie, I don't."

Matthew grinned before turning towards the film and launching into his commentary. He didn't even try to convince himself that the warmth he felt when Gilbert started playing with his hair was from the Scotch.

* * *

(Day 2, Thursday)

Gilbert came down stairs to the smell of bacon and the beat of a vaguely familiar pop song. He rounded the corner to Matthew swaying in-time subconsciously as he mixed the contents of the bowl on the counter. Gilbert noticed that he was mouthing the words until he looked to check on the sizzling pan and caught sight of his friend from the corner of his eye. He smiled in greeting then reached to turn the volume down on the music.

"Morning, Gil."

"Hey, Birdie. What are you doing?"

Matthew frowned at Gilbert, because it was pretty obvious what he was doing. "Uh…making breakfast?"

"I can see _that_ ," Gilbert said, coming around the island to steal a (too hot) piece of bacon. "I meant, it looked like you were dancing."

Matthew scoffed, turning back to the stove. "That wasn't dancing."

"Sure it was." Matthew looked at him archly. "Okay, admittedly a little more is often involved but it certainly was the precursor to dancing. You were on time and everything. You would be surprised how many people can't even do that much."

Matthew looked away from where Gilbert was leaning on the counter with a blush, focusing on taking the bacon off the heat. "Flattery will get you nowhere, Gil."

"It's not flattery, just the truth." Gilbert frowned, realizing with a start that Matthew didn't believe him. Gilbert looked at him hard, trying to figure out why.

Matthew looked at him, only for his blush to deepen. He ducked his head before pushing Gilbert away. "You're staring. Be useful and pull out some fruit, yeah?"

"Sure," Gilbert said slowly, reluctant to change the subject. It was only as he passed by the stereo that a diversion occurred to him. He smirked and said, "But first." He turned up the volume and spun around to see Matthew jump as he turned on the burner for the pancakes. Gilbert reached over and placed his hand over Matthew's, turning off the heat then pulling Matthew away from the stove.

"Gil, what are you—"

"Spontaneous dance party." Gilbert let go of his hand and began to move to the beat of the unfamiliar but catchy song.

Matthew didn't move. He looked surprised and then bit his lip and said, "Gil, you know I don't know how to dance."

Gilbert just smiled and said, still moving, "There's nothing to know. It's not about that, just having fun. Move how you want to. It doesn't even have to be in time."

Matthew still looked unsure, but he started to move anyway. He was stiff and was concentrating way too hard. Gilbert only let it stand for about 30 seconds before he caught Matthew's hand and pulled them together abruptly.

Matthew, caught unaware, stumbled into Gilbert, who then spoke in his ear, "Just let go, okay?" The song changed to a slightly slower beat as their eyes met and Gilbert smiled. Then he broke away and began waving his arms and spinning around. It was silly and uncoordinated and it looked like a hell of a good time. Matthew watched him for a few moments before letting go a little and doing whatever felt natural at the moment. He was sure he looked like a dork but since Gilbert looked like a bit of an idiot, he started not to care.

By the next song, he was laughing at the pair of them. Gilbert joined in and moved to spin the other who gleefully went. The food was forgotten.

Three songs later, Kumajiro walked in and, slightly confused but seeming to pick up on the general mood, came between them and started stamping his paws. He started growling excitedly and his tongue began to hang out of his mouth. Gilbert was thrown by it (understandably) but Matthew just laughed more and kept going, this time seeming to play with the bear every few minutes. Gilbert was still wary as Gilbird came to fly between them, but decided this was one of the best ways this endeavor could have ended. They kept dancing.

* * *

Gilbert was nervous as each person completed their requested song on the small stage across the room. The local bar was surprisingly crowded for a Thursday, even if it was karaoke night. When Gilbert came across the advertisement online, he knew what his requested activity (as per their arrangement) was going to be for the evening. In all honesty, Gilbert had only suggested the deal the week before as an easy way for them to get to know each other, but not it all seemed superfluous. Sure, going out was fun but Gilbert felt like he knew Matthew well enough to not need outings as an excuse to hang out now.

For instance, Gilbert knew to ask Matthew if he was okay with the crowd when they entered. Matthew liked people, but Gilbert knew he was still hesitant to be around concentrated groups after the hockey game. Gilbert also knew that Matthew was probably too shy to go on-stage himself, though he would enjoy being in the audience. He had known earlier, after they had finally gotten around to eating breakfast, that Matthew was feeling jittery and suggested that they do some stuff apart for the day. He was used to being alone and Gilbert knew it was only a matter of time before he would start to feel crowded, so Gilbert gave him some time.

Gilbert also knew that Matthew was excited to see the song that Gilbert had volunteered to sing. He didn't tell him which song, even when Matthew had asked. Or, at least, not the real one.

("Which song did you choose?"

"'I'm Too Sexy.'"

"You're kidding."

"Nope."

"You did _not_. Gil, please tell me you are joking."

"I don't know, Birdie, you'll just have to wait and see. If you were going to sing with me you would have been able to choose the song."

"Fine, sing the song. What do I care? If you get booed, I'm going to join in."

"You wound me, Mattie.")

Gilbert audibly blew out a breath when he noticed that he was on deck. He shook himself once and then stood, smirking at Matthew. "I'm up next. Wish me luck, Birdie."

"Break a leg, Gil," Matthew said with a grin.

"I'll be sure to give you a shout out," Gilbert said with a wink, laughing to himself at Matthew's actually loud squawk of indignation. He turned to make his way through the crowd, cheering along with them as the man on stage sang a very… _spirited_ version of Whitney Houston's, "I Will Always Love You." It was encouraging that the people seemed to be good natured, just in case this whole thing didn't go well. As the man finished the last ear splitting high note, Gilbert approached the stairs leading up to the stage. The MC went center stage, clapping as she said,

"Alright, please give a warm round of applause for Richard, whose bravery we all admire, am I right?" The crowd gave another enthusiastic cry and the MC, Angela, laughed, "You all are wonderful. Now please join me in welcoming our next guest, who is visiting all the way from Germany. Come on up, Gilbert!"

Clapping ensued as Gilbert stepped into the spotlight and up to the microphone with a smile. "Thank you, everyone. As Angela said, I am here visiting my friend, Matthew, who was nice enough to let me stay at his house on short notice."

"I love your accent!" came an enthusiastic voice from the crowd.

Gilbert smirked and winked in that general direction. " _Danke_. Anyway, this one's for Mattie."

He swallowed and nodded towards Angela who gave a thumbs up and he started singing, his voice low,

_Oh, mama, I'm in fear for my life from the long arm of the law._

_Lawman has put an end to my runnin' and I'm so far from my home._

_Oh, mama, I can hear you a-crying. You're so scared and all alone._

_Hangman is coming down from the gallows and I don't have very long._

Gilbert looked towards Matthew's general direction and gave the "yeah!" the song required, joined by a few in the audience who recognized Styx's "Renegade." He continued with the lyrics as the melody kicked in, smile transforming his face as he got into the song. Gilbert was on key and really enjoying himself, delighted that the audience clapped along to the drums at the bridge. The nerves were forgotten and he was completely in his element.

The song ended on a long note which was drowned by the crowd's applause. Gilbert laughed into the microphone and bowed a bit as Angela took over again. "Alright, alright, alright, let's hear it again for Gilbert!" He waved as he left the stage, receiving a few pats on the back as he made his way back to their table. Matthew was grinning as Gilbert approached and embraced him by the time they were together. Matthew pulled back and, speaking over the duet of two women singing Britney Spears' "Toxic," said,

"That was great, Gil!"

Gilbert smiled again, suddenly shy. "Thanks, Birdie. Glad you liked it."

Matthew suddenly frowned and swatted Gilbert's arm. Gilbert flinched, startled at the sudden change.

"Ow, what—"

"That was for making me think you were going to sing that awful song."

"Ah, come one, Birdie, it's a classic. I bet we'll hear it at least once tonight. Besides," Gilbert smirked and leered at Matthew, "you know I could have rocked it."

"This isn't that kind of bar, Gilbert."

"Did you just imply…"

Matthew just lifted an eyebrow at him, making Gilbert dissolve into laughter.

If the audience left the bar that night happier than their individual situations called for, well, who exactly was going to complain?

* * *

(Day 4/5, Saturday Night/Sunday Morning)

Despite the surprising warmth of the day, the night air was colder than the ground they lay on. Matthew and Gilbert looked up at the clear sky, free of the city's light pollution, as Gilbert used the stars to tell stories. Matthew was at peace in the near-wilderness, a setting that more than anywhere resonated as _home_. While Prussia used the constellations as inspiration, Canada took from the solid earth at his back and the life he could feel around them.

They both spoke of the past in a way that only Nations could and particularly weary humans imitated. Some of it was good, like when they both spoke of meeting their brothers for the first time. Some of it was funny, such as Gilbert's reaction to shifts in history which he happily sat up to demonstrate. In return, Matthew spoke of a game of hide-and-seek shared with Australia and America that ended up breaking one of England's prized vases. A great deal of it was tinged with sadness for all the things sacrificed in the name of someone's idea of progress. Matthew spoke of making friends with the indigenous nations of people there before France, only to end up helping oppress them. _It was a bit like carving a piece of my heart out_ , Matthew admitted quietly, voice shaking. Gilbert just squeezed his hand, offering what comfort he could. Gilbert spoke of the process of losing his autonomy.

"I thought I would have been okay with it. I had pushed for awful things which only proved that I had gone too far in the pursuit of power. I saw what the Great War did to my people, what it did to my brother, and knew that it had been too much. Yes, the terms of peace were crippling and insulting. I knew I had become a kingdom only in name, but was fine with it since everything I had built which was left was going to my brother. That had been my original purpose, you know, making my brother strong enough that he wouldn't have to constantly struggle just to _maintain_ like I did. I thought I was fine. Then—"

"Gil, you don't have to talk about it," Matthew said gently, guessing what came after.

Gilbert just shook his head and stared harder at the sky. "I never realized how angry I was. That rage and resentment drove me to agree to terrible, unforgivable things to regain what I had lost and take from them everything they had stolen from me. Yes, I was in part swayed by the desires of my people, but I was _so angry_ that I was willing to cut myself to pieces for revenge. By the time the frenzy passed, it was far too late for so many. I knew dissolution was coming and I expected, even _wanted_ , to die. But I didn't. _My God_ , I didn't."

Gilbert fell silent and his body tensed as the flood of memories hit him. It was Matthew's turn to give comfort, but he was at a loss as to what would help his friend. He was right; his actions were atrocious and inexcusable. Every nation had done something (or were currently doing something) heinous and there was a great deal of blame to spread around for that war. Nothing could alter those facts and Matthew knew from experience that there was no forgiveness here. So he stayed quiet and laced their fingers together, squeezing gently. Matthew longed to lighten the mood but he didn't want to cheapen the moment and knew he wasn't socially adept enough to make an ice-breaking joke.

They lay together under the stars until Gilbert relaxed enough to look back at Matthew and smiled with ghosts in his eyes. "Let's go home."

They went.

* * *

(Day 6, Monday)

It was the first of the month, cold, and the entertainment compound was nearly empty of children. This meant they had the go-cart track to themselves.

Gilbert revved the engine, calling out over the sound, "Not exactly the Autobahn but it will do."

Matthew just smiled beatifically and responded. Gilbert couldn't hear him, but it looked like he said, "Try to keep up."

The light turned green and they floored it.

Matthew won but Gilbert didn't mind at all.

* * *

(Day 7, Tuesday)

"Hallo?"

"Hey, West." Gilbert said in German, hearing a rustling of papers in the background. If he had to guess, he would say that his brother just sat up abruptly in surprise.

"Gilbert, how are you?"

"I'm good, just hanging out with a friend. How are you and my brother-in-law doing?"

"Gilbert, you know we are not actually married."

"As good as. And the question still stands."

Ludwig sighed. "We are good. Feliciano is visiting his brother and I am trying to get some things together for the upcoming summit."

"That's good. Hey, when is that, by the way?"

"The end of next week. I believe Berwald is hosting it," (a rustling of paper), "yes, he is."

"You know you're going to be stuck translating his speech since he still scares the shit out of half of the Nations."

"Yes, I did realize that. He really is sweet but even I have a difficult time maintaining eye contact with him."

"Do you need any help?"

A beat of silence, then, "What?"

"Do you need my help with preparing anything for the summit?"

Silence again. Gilbert could practically feel confused concern through the phone. He wished he could see his brother's face; it was rare that Ludwig was shocked speechless these days. He finally answered with a careful voice, "Brother, are you all right?"

Gilbert sighed. "Look, if you don't want me getting in your way, I get it. I haven't exactly been present for the last dozen or so years, so I'm not really up to speed. That's a problem. You work too hard and since I'm still alive I share part of the responsibility of work that I've put off for too long. If it is too—"

"There are several things with which I could use your help. It will not take you long to catch up at all."

"Awesome! Email what I need to me and I'll get to work."

"I will. So, I will be seeing you at the meeting?" Ludwig sounded hesitant.

"Yeah, of course."

Ludwig was quiet for a second then said, "You sound different. Are you somewhere they speak English?"

 _Yikes!_ Gilbert thought. Though, now that he thought about it, it really didn't matter if Ludwig knew or not. He would be fine with seeing his brother. But he knew Ludwig would feel honor-bound to let Francis and Antonio know and he just wasn't up for that. So he gave a (publicly) characteristic cackle and spoke in a dialect that was about a century or so out of date, "Farewell, brother mine."

Gilbert hung up and called out to Matthew who was reading in the other room. "Hey, Birdie, do I sound different?"

"In what way?" Matthew called back distractedly, not looking up from his book. Gilbert went to him and asked,

"As in, is my accent different?"

"Um…" Matthew looked at Gilbert and frowned. "Maybe a little?"

"Could you explain?" Gilbert perched on the side of Matthew's armchair, neither of them giving a damn for the sanctity of proper furniture use.

"Well, for one, I noticed that you don't really use ' _Ja_ ' anymore, just 'yeah.' Also, you sound more relaxed, like you don't have to force some words anymore. Your accent is only really heavy on complex words."

"That's weird. I didn't notice."

"I understand that it's a natural part of living in one space for a long time. People adapt their speech to blend in with their surroundings. It just kind of happens, I guess. If you didn't notice, why did you ask?"

Gilbert shrugged. "Ludwig told me."

Matthew smiled, "It's great that you talked to him. How is he?"

"He's good. He said he was getting ready for the summit next week." Gilbert looked at Matthew, considering. "What day do you have to go back to work?"

Matthew closed the book completely and ran a quick hand through his hair. "Monday, I think. It would have been later but since I have that presentation to prepare, I should go in earlier." Matthew paused, realizing just what the meeting meant. "Oh, _maple_ , Gil. What do you want to do while I'm at work or even the meeting? Do you want to stay here or—"

"First of all, really? You just used 'maple' as a curse word."

Matthew turned beet red. He usually only used that word in his internal dialogue. Petulantly, he said, "Fuck you."

"Well, if you insist—"

"What?"

"What?" A beat of silence then, "SECOND, I asked Ludwig if he needed help getting ready for the meeting, so he's sending me some stuff to read through and prepare. I'm going to the meeting, too."

Matthew decided to ignore whatever _that_ was (for now) and said, "That's great, Gil. I didn't know you were going to the meeting."

Gilbert rubbed the back of his neck, admitting awkwardly, "Yeah, well, I haven't _exactly_ been the model brother, work- and otherwise. I've felt bad about it for a while now and decided to actually do something about it. Along that same line, if you need any help with that special report on populations and Nation's proximity, I would be happy to help. I noticed a few things that could be helpful."

"Thanks, Gil, I would really appreciate that."

"Well, it's the least I could do, especially after everything you've done for me." Gilbert smiled and moved to leave when Matthew touched his arm. He said, in a voice so low Gilbert had to strain to hear it,

"Do you want to give the presentation with me? At the summit, I mean. You're the reason I even noticed there was a problem and you're helping me so it stands that you should get some recognition. Also—" Matthew stopped. He bit his lip and looked at the book in his lap. He really didn't want to say the next bit.

"You don't think they will listen to you," Gilbert said softly.

"Basically. They would see the screen but look right through me. I'm fine with that—"

"Well, _I'm_ not."

"—but this report is something everyone needs to be aware of and it would be a shame if they missed the point and someone got hurt just because of my lack of presence."

"I'm sorry you feel that way and I'm sorry other people are idiots. Just because you are shy and quiet doesn't make you any less of a Nation. Of course I'll present with you and I will be sure that they know who you are afterwards." Gilbert got up and strode towards the kitchen. Matthew called out,

"Gil, what does that mean?"

"You'll see. In the meantime, I'm cooking lunch."

"You're doing _what_ now?!"

"You got any potatoes, Birdie?"

"They are in the cabinet. If you burn down my kitchen, I swear—"

"Relax. I can cook."

(He really could cook, though his specialties were exclusively German, Italian, and Russian food. Matthew wanted to know why he hadn't cooked before, to which Gilbert pointed out that he had _tried_ but gravity was not on his side that day. He promised to cook more regularly now that he was trusted near a stove once more.)

* * *

(Day 8, Wednesday)

Matthew had decided to finally give Gilbert a hockey stick, though there was no puck on the ice. He wanted to see how Gilbert would handle shifting his balance enough to do some simple drills slowly. The decision proved wise.

If Gilbert tripped one more time over that stick, Matthew was sure he was going to have a heart attack.

" _Slowly_ , Gil. There's no rush and if you fall it will hurt less."

"I thought I was going slowly."

"Here," Matthew said, stopping suddenly at Gilbert's side. "I'll do it with you. Your grip is correct, you just need to keep your balance when you're moving the stick. Remember, the entire point is to control the puck, not fling it through the glass. You're arm movements don't need to be as big as you think." Matthew moved, making his motions slow and obvious. "See?"

Gilbert tried to imitate the movement, he really did. He still tripped, too focused on his arm movements to stop properly. He didn't fall, though Matthew was there to catch him just in case. In the end he just steadied Gilbert enough to find his center again. Gilbert frowned at the ice like it had personally offended him.

"Hey, don't get discouraged," Matthew said, flicking Gilbert's head lightly. "You're doing great, especially since you didn't know how to skate in this style before. It takes humans much longer to do what you did in the span of three days, so don't feel bad. You are, how do you say it, awesome?"

So Gilbert tried again. And again. And again. He succeeded once, then got too excited and ran right into Matthew. Matthew tried (and failed) to keep them upright, but all he could do was make sure no one knocked their heads on the ice when they went down.

Gilbert didn't care. He rolled onto his back and said excitedly, "Hell, yeah, I'm awesome! Did you see that? My awesomeness knows no bounds! You should have recorded it for posterity."

Matthew just beamed at him, sitting up with a smile. "You did wonderfully. Do you want to go again?"

"Er, perhaps we should end on this awesome note and grab some lunch?"

Matthew just laughed and dragged Gilbert to the bench. Food sounded nice.

* * *

(Day 9, Thursday)

" _How_ have you never seen _Firefly?_ "

Matthew shrugged, absently giving Maple a pat on her head as she dug into her food. "I don't know, I just didn't watch it. I don't exactly follow what's airing on television, but I did watch _Buffy_ when it went online."

"Well, did you like that?"

"Yeah. It was a bit dark and the writing bothered me at times, but it was overall a great series. I hated Reily and Buffy never got the respect and consideration she deserved from the characters, but I liked the show."

"Yet you've never seen _Firefly_."

Matthew laughed a little, putting on the kettle. "Yes, that is correct. Do you want some tea?"

"No, thank you, and that's what we are doing today. We are going to binge watch _Firefly_ because you are missing a vital part of Sci-Fi history." Gilbert froze, before asking, "My God, have you seen Star Wars or Star Trek?"

Matthew shrugged again. "I saw the first Star Wars in theaters and wasn't particularly interested in continuing. I saw how many iterations of Star Trek there were online but never started a series because the massive body of episodes is intimidating jump into. Where do you even begin with that?"

"We are making this happen."

"What?"

"This is now a _thing_ , Birdie."

"…O-okay?"

Gilbert then spent a good five minutes debating to himself what to put on. Meanwhile, Matthew curled up on the couch with his mug of tea. Gilbert finally came in and pulled up Netflix. As he selected the show, he said,

"This has the shortest run time than the others and _should_ leave you open to more. I really think you'll like it."

Matthew looked at Gilbert over the lip of his mug. "Are you going to run a commentary through this?"

"I'll try to refrain, though I might not be able to."

"I wouldn't mind it. I like seeing my friends enjoy what their passionate about."

"I appreciate that but I really want to show to stand on its own, you know?"

Gilbert restrained himself admirably (only 5 comments were thrown in through the first episode) and Matthew had to admit he was hooked. Gilbert looked genuinely pleased and somehow that was his signal to invade Matthew's personal space by laying on him again. The comments started, too, though those were more interactive than revealing. A lot of _wow, really_ and _I know right_ s were thrown around.

By the fourth episode, Gilbert had grown increasingly quiet, only half responding to Matthew's comments and adding his own only at particularly interesting bits. Halfway through, he was completely silent. Matthew glanced down and saw he was asleep. Matthew smiled a little and stopped carding his fingers through Gilbert's hair. Of course, that made Gilbert frown and nuzzle his thigh. So, Matthew continued petting him, muttering,

"Demanding thing, aren't you."

Matthew didn't mind, not in the slightest. Gilbert seemed like a tactile person in general. _Of course_ , Matthew thought, _it could just be me he's handsy with_. If that was true, he was more than okay with it.

At the end of the episode, Matthew turned off the television and reached over to turn on a nearby light. The movement jostled Gilbert, who was confused as to why his pillow was moving. He blinked and sat up quickly, only to have black dots dance in front of his eyes. Still, he said with a voice still heavy with sleep, "I'm sorry, Mattie, I didn't mean to fall asleep on you."

Matthew smiled and said, teasing, "It's fine, Gil. You only drooled a little."

Gilbert looked mortified and a lot more awake as he said, "I'm _so_ —"

"I'm teasing, Gil. You didn't actually drool on me."

"You're a cruel, cruel man Matthew Williams."

"I thought that was why you keep hanging around, Gilbert Beilschmidt."

"It is certainly on the top of the list."

"There's a list?"

"Of course there's a list."

"What else is on the list?"

They were incredibly close, though neither remembered leaning in. Gilbert licked his lips and said, "Well, it boils down to this: you see, I met this guy."

Matthew thought his heart stopped only to race once it restarted. That could not be healthy. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Gilbert reached up to touch Matthew's face, saying, "He's kind of amazing and I'm really afraid of messing up with him."

Just before touching Matthew, Gilbert dropped his hand and leaned back. Matthew startled. "Gil—"

"Goodnight, Matthew. Thanks for tonight." Gilbert got up and moved towards the stairs.

"But—" Matthew cut himself off, repeating in his head like a mantra, _he's not ready, he's not ready, he's not ready, he's not ready._ Matthew swallowed what he was going to say to yell up the stairs, "Sleep well."

Once Gilbert was definitely upstairs, Matthew collapsed like a puppet with his strings cut. He covered his face with his hands and groaned softly. What he could have with Gilbert was worth waiting for and he was prepared to do just that. Yet, Matthew felt like he had been waiting _forever_. It just made it harder and the anticipation was killing him because he and Gilbert were no longer an _if._ They were a _when,_ he was sure of it. If they had the potential Matthew thought they did, to have a partnership built on something special and wonderful, then what was a few more months? He was very aware that they also had the potential to be something terrible and heartbreaking. Either way, Matthew wouldn't push and would let Gilbert decide, because he was worth the wait.

* * *

(Day 10, Friday)

When the question finally came, it wasn't a surprise. It did however, require clarification.

"Hey, do you want to go to dinner with me?"

Matthew looked up from the small stack of paperwork piled on his desk that was marked as urgent by the home office. It wasn't much and Matthew really wasn't looking forward to returning to any trouble at work, so it was getting done in the quiet hours. He couldn't believe his leave was already ending on Monday. Isn't that the nature of good vacations, though?

"Yeah, sure, Gil. Do you feel like eating something in particular?"

Gilbert's mouth quirked to the side before he settled back into his somewhat nervous expression. He shoved one hand into his pocket while the other reached up to rub the back of his neck. "Ah, no not really."

"All right. Maybe think about it? There's just a lot of options." Matthew frowned down at the paper in front of him then shrugged and stood up. He had done enough for someone on vacation for one day. He was tidying up when Gilbert continued.

"I mean, as a date." Matthew froze but Gilbert continued. "Would you like to go a date with me?"

The gaze Matthew leveled at Gilbert was searching and serious. "You're…Gil, are you sure?"

"Yeah, Birdie, Mattie. I'm sure and I'm really serious." Matthew began to walk around his desk towards Gilbert, his expression softening. It didn't ease Gilbert's nerves because that expression could either mean a gentle rejection or a yes. He continued, "I know the timing isn't great and that I'm coming from an abysmal prior situation but I really like you and completely understand if you want to just stay friends. I just know that I would always regret it if I didn't at least try because you're probably the most awesome person I've ever met and—"

Matthew put a finger on Gilbert's lips to stop him and, seeing only sincerity in his face, grinned. "You're rambling."

Hope bloomed in Gilbert's chest as he moved Matthew's hand away to say, "And you haven't answered."

"Well…" Matthew said, definitely invading Gilbert's personal space. His eyes flicked from Gilbert's to his mouth, making his intention clear and giving plently of time for protest. As he leaned in, Matthew continued, "Let me think."

The kiss was soft and chaste, a test for a reaction. Matthew began to pull away, his hand resting on Gilbert's cheek, mirroring what almost happened the night before. Gilbert quickly recovered from the initial shock and chased the other's movement. He lightly gripped the back of Matthew's neck as he learned the shape of his mouth. Matthew hummed in response, pleased.

The kiss only lasted a few seconds but they both pulled away a little short of breath. Gilbert rested his forehead on Matthew's and murmured, "Is that a yes?"

Matthew laughed, joyful and breathless. "Yes. Yes it is."


	25. Chapter 24: Over the Edge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: panic attacks, depression, anxiety.

It was the first time that Gilbert had to pick out a restaurant for a first date and it was harder than he ever imagined. Part of the problem was that they had _basically_ been dating for two weeks though not really. In that time, they had eaten at a lot of restaurants. At the very least, he knew which foods Matthew enjoyed and had a vague sense of a vision of what he wanted it to be: lively but intimate, relaxed yet classy. But he didn't live here and hadn't the faintest as to where to begin to look. Well, besides the Internet. Gilbert had survived to this modern age; he was damn well going to take advantage of the resources available.

Even with the wonders of technology, Gilbert was stuck searching for a couple of hours on Matthew's computer. He needed to find a restaurant that wasn't so overly popular that could leave them waiting for hours as well as a place that didn't take reservations so there would _be_ tables _._ It would have been nice to have started planning a week ago but Gilbert was still half convinced that morning that Matthew was going to turn him down. In all honesty, he was still reeling from the kiss earlier because what did a guy like Matthew— smart, gorgeous, _kind_ Matthew—want with Gilbert? Because, really, what did he have to offer the guy besides a mess of a pseudo-Nation with more emotional scarring and baggage than sense? Surely he was going to fuck this up like he did with Roderich and Matthew deserved _so_ much better than—

This wasn't helping anything.

Matthew had said yes, had actually _kissed him_. Gilbert had to focus on the fact that Matthew should get whatever he wanted and he for some reason wanted Gilbert back which was nothing short of a fucking miracle. He was just _so sure_ that he was going to mess this up just like he did with everything he touched in his life. Maybe he should have waited to ask Matthew out but he wanted to be with him and he really is bad at impulse control. Walking away the night before was physically painful but Matthew deserved to be courted.

 _Then again_ , Gilbert thought, _it looked like he_ wanted _to be kissed last night, too. So am I really giving him what he wants or just what I think he wants? What if he doesn't even—? Fucking hell, I'm awful at this._ Gilbert pressed his fingers against his eyes and pursed his lips. There was a slight tremble to his fingers and he was breathing heavily. _No,_ he thought desperately, realizing what was happening. _Not after it had been so long, a month at least. Not here. Not now. Get a grip—_

There was a knock at the door frame and Matthew peaked his head in. Gilbert saw his smile in greeting fall to concern and breathing became harder. Matthew wasn't supposed to know, wasn't supposed to see him like this. He was supposed to be in control, supposed to be stronger than—

"Gil, Gil is it okay if I touch you?" Matthew asked, his voice low and steady and far closer than Gilbert had realized.

He nodded and managed a stuttered, "I-I'm s-s-sorry. I-I-I d-don't—"

"Shhh, it's okay, Gil. Just focus on breathing, okay? Here," Matthew put Gilbert's hand on his chest, over his heart, and said, "breathe with me. I'm going to do a five-count." Matthew's face was serious and concerned but his eyes were kind and a little scared. Gilbert jerked his head in what he hoped was a nod because there was no air and his heart hurt from pounding so hard, nearly deafening him to all other sound. Matthew seemed like the surest thing in the room and he would do anything Matthew asked to make sure he wasn't afraid anymore. So Gilbert tried to breathe with Matthew in a vacuum. He felt the rise and fall of Matthew's chest, the fast but steady beat of his heart, and slowly rediscovered air.

Once he could breathe normally again, Gilbert found that he was shaking and sweating. He closed his eyes and desperately wished the floor would open up and swallow him whole. It had been years since he let anyone catch him having an episode, too used to the days when humans tossed each other in institutions or shut them in for hysteria. They had new words for it nowadays, but the bottom line was still the same. Gilbert was broken and Matthew had seen everything. _Maybe it's better that he saw this now,_ he thought miserably. _That way he doesn't waste his time with a freak like me. Roderich was right, that's really all I am._

"Gil, are you okay?" Gilbert felt the softness of a tissue pass over his forehead gently.

Gilbert just squeezed his eyes shut and forced out, "Not really." He laughed harshly then looked at Matthew who still hadn't lost that look in his eyes. He twisted his mouth into a semblance of a smile, jaded and cracked. "I guess you don't want that date anymore, huh? I can't even handle a simple Internet search." He ceased talking, looked away, and grit his teeth, the muscle in his jaw twitching. Gilbert had known he was going to fuck up, he had just hoped it wouldn't have been so soon.

Matthew ran his hand over Gilbert's face to gently but firmly grab his chin. There was a slight pressure for Gilbert to turn his head towards him, a suggestion rather than a demand. Gilbert turned his eyes back to Matthew's face and saw a myriad of emotions flash across it, only able to pick out sadness and anger.

In the end, Matthew settled on determined as he said, "Gilbert Beilschmidt, I need to hear what I am about to say to you and never forget it, do you understand me?" Gilbert frowned but nodded. "It will take a hell of a lot more than helping you through a panic attack to drive me away from our date tonight, unless _you_ want to call it off. In fact, I would put the odds at slim to none from my end, so get any contrary notion out of your head. I am very worried about you and I am more than a little concerned that, based on what you just said, I am in part to blame for this happening."

"No! Matthew, I—"

Matthew put a finger to his lips. "Let me finish, please." Gilbert nodded and Matthew moved his finger. "I want you to know than any time you feel one coming on, I would really like it if you would call me if you could. I understand if you don't want to and I won't force it, but I also want to be there for you. Finally, I would like to talk about what brought this on and if there's anything I can do to help give you what you need, okay? We don't have to if you don't want you, it's just… you're scaring me." Matthew let go of Gilbert, who at this point was wearing a look of astonishment that seemed to perturb Matthew further. A moment passed and Gilbert realized he need to actually answer him.

"I'm sorry, Birdie, I really never meant for you to see me like that." A look of alarm passed over Matthew's face but he stayed quiet and leaned against the desk, settling in. "It had been a month, maybe six weeks, since the last one and I thought I was free of them, you know. With everything that has happened, I didn't have one. Then I try to pick a restaurant for our first actual date and I lose it." Gilbert sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I really wanted to make a good impression and had this _idea_ for a great date that I think you would like and I couldn't find a place in the sea of options. I got frustrated and started thinking that I was really bad at this whole dating thing. Then it just… spiraled out of control. I started thinking about how you're such a great guy with all of your shit together and, here I am, the mess that showed up on your doorstep two weeks ago and then made a nuisance of myself. I felt it coming on and panicked more when I saw you because I haven't let anyone seen me have an episode in years. It seems to me like one more reason why you deserve better than me and…and I've said way too much." Gilbert put his elbows on the desk and buried his face in his hands. He could really use that hole in the floor right about now.

Matthew was quiet for a moment and Gilbert felt his heart simultaneously sink and race. Then he felt a hand on his shoulder tug him gently upwards. Gilbert looked at Matthew as he rose and couldn't read his expression. Matthew said, "Come with me. We're going to get you some water and a wet washcloth, then I'm going to show you something I think will help." Gilbert nodded and Matthew took his hand leading him out of the room. Somehow, Gilbert was starting to think that whatever Matthew was planning on showing him was better than what was currently on the inside of his head.

* * *

Gilbert had successfully blown Matthew's mind. Never had he expected confident, brilliant Gilbert to have insecurities over dating him. Yes, he had expected hesitancy after what had happened with Austria, but, goodness, never this. It broke his heart to think of all the times Gilbert had gotten through his anxiety attacks alone and that he thought Matthew wouldn't want him because of them. What killed him was that he had somehow convinced himself that Matthew wouldn't understand, as if he hadn't seen Matthew have a minor break-down after the hockey game. He knew how thought cycles like the one Gilbert was currently in the middle of worked, had lived in a constant loop of them for more years than he could count. He knew how persistent they could be, so what he was about to attempt was going off of hope rather than actual belief that it would help. But it was all he could think to do.

After getting Gilbert hydrated and cleaned up, Matthew sat them both down on the couch and turned his body to face the other, a leg bent and tucked under the other. He held out his wrist and said, "Take my pulse, please." Gilbert frowned but held Matthew's wrist in one hand while the other pressed to fingers to the area below his thumb. Gilbert swept his fingers lightly over Matthew's pulse in a caress, giving Matthew a jolt of sensation. He felt his heart rate picked up and huffed a bit. "Behave."

"Sure, okay." Gilbert smirked a little, clearly pleased with himself. Considering the slight change in his mood, Matthew wasn't actually upset but he needed a steady pulse rate so that this would work. Gilbert seemed to sober a bit and pressed on his skin firmly. Seeing him ready, Matthew began.

"My name is Matthew Williams."

Gilbert blinked at him. Then, a bit confused said, "Er, yes?"

"I am the personification of Canada. My favorite color is red. I have one brother."

"Birdie, what-?"

"I really like you. By which I mean, I am attracted to you in every sense of the word."

Gilbert's eyes widened and he looked down at his hands, finally getting what was happening. "Oh." He turned his eyes back to Matthew's and looked at him like he had just offered the moon, all wrapped up and ready for delivery.

"I don't care if we go to a five-star restaurant, a local dive, or even have dinner here for our date. I just really want to be with you."

Matthew took a deep breath, nervous but it was cards-on-the-table time. He wanted them to work and Gilbert's insecurities had somehow given him hope that they _could actually do this_. But communication was key and if Gilbert had opened up, then he could bring himself to do no less. So he continued.

"I'm scared, too. I'm scared that you'll get bored with me and leave just like ev-everyone else. I'm scared that when you leave you won't come back because you'll have for-," Matthew struggled for a minute and looked away, his throat suddenly thick and the words, stubborn. Then he pushed on when the hand that Gilbert was using to hold his wrist up spasmed. He looked back at Gilbert ( _No hiding_ , he told himself) and said, "Because you'll have forgotten me. I don't understand why you seem to want me when no one else really has before. I keep telling myself to enjoy this while I can because soon you'll leave and I'll be alone again." Matthew took several shaky breaths and Gilbert let go of his wrist to pull him into a hug.

Matthew forced himself to finish. Speaking into the space between his mouth and Gilbert's neck, he said, loud enough to be heard clearly, "I'm afraid that one day you'll look through me, too."

Gilbert pulled him closer so that Matthew was practically in his lap. He said in response, quietly, "It's impossible to unsee the sun. It may blind you but you can never unsee it."

Matthew barked out a laugh in response, unable to help himself, and hid his rapidly blushing face against Gilbert's shoulder. "You're adorable. That was probably the cheesiest thing I've ever heard." Gilbert tensed, so Matthew continued, "It was also the sweetest."

Gilbert pulled back to look at him. He ducked his head to catch Matthew's eye and said, "I hope we work as a couple. But if for some reason we don't, I promise to always be your friend. I'll be the obnoxious one who will only call ahead a day or so before showing up and overstaying my welcome and coming back at all hours on the bike, waking everyone in the neighborhood. You won't have to feel lonely again because, no matter what happens, I'll just be a phone call away. But, Birdie," Gilbert cupped Matthew's jaw and traced his bottom lip with his thumb, eyes tracking the movement. He looked back at Matthew's eyes and said, "I _really_ want us to work."

It was Matthew's turn to be floored. In a sea of gratitude, hope, and a growing hunger, he said the only thing that came to mind. "May I kiss you?"

"God, yes."

When they came together, the result was nothing like the kiss they shared earlier that day. That was short and sweet, an opening to something new between them. This…this was need. Matthew was water to a man dying of thirst. Gilbert was heat to a man freezing to death. Passion was one word for it. Desperation was another.

They collided rather than kissed at first, both bruising the other in the initial surge forward. Gilbert cradled the back of Matthew's hair, careful not pull as he fit their lips together. Matthew had no such qualms, tugging on Gilbert's hair a little as he licked at the part between Gilbert's lips. Pleasantly shocked, Gilbert gasped and returned the tug as Matthew's tongue touched his for the first time. Matthew made an eager noise in the back of his throat and, seeing as he was practically there already, broke away and swung a leg over Gilbert to straddle him properly.

Matthew looked down at Gilbert for a second, seeing how his lips were redder than his eyes which were almost entirely blown black. His hair was in complete disarray and the flush in his cheeks had started to work its way down his neck. He looked utterly debauched and Matthew couldn't remember seeing such a tempting sight in his life.

Gilbert looked up at Matthew, let out an honest-to-goodness growl, and used one hand to pull them back together while the other squeezed Matthew's hip. In any other context, the high-pitched sound Matthew made in response would have embarrassed him. In the moment, however, it just made Gilbert pull them closer using both hands while Matthew learned the inside of his mouth. Matthew's hands were not idle as one scratched at Gilbert's scalp while the other tugged at his shirt collar. He rolled his hips and could almost hear something in Gilbert snap.

Gilbert froze for a beat, just long enough for Matthew to pull away a little. Then, in a flurry of movement, he gripped Matthew's leg and ass and picked him up like he was nothing long enough to adjust their position. Breathless (because _holy fuck_ that was hot), Matthew found himself on his back with Gilbert above him. Matthew made that noise again, legs coming instinctively to cross behind Gilbert, forcing him closer. Gilbert's gaze flicked to Matthew's neck before he kissed him again. Gilbert left Matthew's mouth with a tug of teeth and seemed to chase the sound to his throat. He dragged his lips and teeth across the skin, searching, until Matthew jolted and gasped. Matthew could only feel the brief smirk against his throat before Gilbert began to suck at the spot, aiming to mark if only for a few minutes. Matthew, well. Matthew fucking lost it.

He arched his neck and placed his hand on the back of Gilbert's head to discourage any movement from that spot. He started making those high-pitched sounds of pure _need_ while the other hand scratched down Gilbert's back over his shirt. Matthew was really starting to not like that shirt. It was only when Gilbert bit the spot when Matthew rolled his hips again that he did something about it. Matthew moved the hand at Gilbert's back to his chest and _tugged_.

He may have forgotten his own strength. Maybe.

In any case, the button-down Gilbert had selected to ask Matthew out in became so many rags as buttons flew off and several tears appeared along the seams of the shirt with a small section coming away in his hand. The both stopped to look down Gilbert's torso at the now visible undershirt and the over shirt in thorough disrepair.

"I'm so sorry, Gil! I wasn't thinking," Matthew said, panting a little. His eyes continued down to the bulge in Gilbert's slacks and Gilbert followed Matthew's gaze.

He smirked and said, voice husky, "Like what you see?"

Matthew looked back up to his eyes and felt his expression become more predatory than it had been for years. He held up the hand with the small bit of black fabric and said, "What do you think?" He opened his hand and let the fabric flutter to the floor.

Gilbert could only say, "Fuck," before he kissed him again. He pressed him back into the couch for a moment before backing away. Matthew made a sound of protest but Gilbert put a finger against his lips to say, "Birdie, wait a minute."

"Okay," Matthew said, using the action to nip at Gilbert's finger with his teeth then flick his tongue against it.

" _Holy shit_ ," Gilbert said startled, taking his hand back. He clearly had something he wanted to say so Matthew took the time to catch his breath and look Gilbert over while he waited. Matthew bit his lip quite deliberately, feeling how swollen it was and reveling in the ache.

When Gilbert hadn't said anything for a moment, Matthew looked back at his face with wide eyes and said, "What did you want to say, Gil?"

Gilbert's eyes lost focus for a minute, saying distractedly, "I'm sure it was something…" Then his gaze snapped into focus again and he looked down at Matthew and said, "Something like, 'wouldn't you like to go on our first date before we…'"

"Oh, oh my." Matthew blinked and really took stock of the situation before he started to blush. He covered his face with his hands and said, "Yes, that would be nice."

"Awesome, wonderful." A beat. "Could you maybe, ah, let me move?"

Matthew frowned at him for a second between his fingers then covered his eyes again at the realization that his legs were still crossed behind Gilbert. He dropped them, saying, "Sorry, sorry."

"Don't be. Just…don't be." Matthew looked through his fingers to find Gilbert looking at him with such _want_ that Matthew felt almost pinned by it. Matthew lowered his hands and Gilbert looked at face.

They just stared for a moment until Matthew whispered, "Gil."

"Right!" Gilbert seemed to shake himself. "Good talk. Communication, lots of honesty, companionship, all good things."

"Uh huh."

"I'm just going to—"

"Yeah, that might be best."

"Right." Gilbert left the room quickly. Matthew blew out a breath that puffed up his cheeks and looked at the ceiling. His skin still buzzed where Gilbert had touched him, ached where he hadn't, and one particular spot on his neck stung in the best way possible. Excess energy flowed through him and he giggled, giddy in the aftermath. The weight of his concerns was, for the most part, lifted, he just made out with someone who _had_ to be one of the hottest men to walk the earth, and he had a date later that night with the same man. Life was good.

* * *

Gilbert was nervous as he adjusted his tie in the mirror in the foyer and looked up at the ceiling as sounds of Matthew moving around filtered through. It was a different nervous than what he felt before, exciting rather than panic inducing. While he couldn't be sure, Gilbert would say that Matthew's make-shift lie detector test had gone a long way to calm him. Being able to not only hear what Matthew was saying but feel the truth of it in the steadiness of the other's heartbeat was amazingly reassuring and something solid to refer back to whenever those negative thoughts came up. Yes, he was aware that Matthew was more than just a skilled liar (his ability to sound fine when he was clearly _not_ was a testament to that), but instinct told him that Matthew had meant every word. You couldn't fake the look Matthew had in his eyes when he voiced his loneliness, so obviously deeply ingrained that Gilbert had felt awful for not noticing anything before. And Matthew clearly wasn't lying about the attraction he felt because it was _Gilbert_ of all people who had to call them to a halt earlier. They had barely done anything yet Matthew had looked _wrecked_ and…Gilbert had to stop thinking about that now. He had gotten out of the house after a brief ( _cold_ ) shower, getting permission to use Matthew's car to run out and buy a few things. Like a new shirt.

Matthew had readily agreed to Gilbert leaving, especially once his now ruined shirt was mentioned, and had seemed excited when Gilbert asked him to be dressed nicely for 8:30. Gilbert had a mind to impress, so he picked up more than just a shirt for the night.

He looked at his reflection critically. He had on black slacks and a crimson shirt, complemented by a black waist coat and a silk black tie. Gilbert knew how to play to his coloring and looked good enough. Well, the shop attendants had certainly thought so at the very least. The woman said he looked devastating while the man had asked jokingly, _are you sure you're trying to go out and not stay in?_ but they were paid to sell clothing. Clearly, they were very good at their jobs.

On a whim, Gilbert had stopped at the florist to pick up a bouquet of roses but then immediately felt silly. A dozen seemed way over the top, but for some reason he had really wanted to give Matthew something. The result of the indecision led to the single red rose, as cliché as it was, sitting on the small table by the door. Apparently romance wasn't as dead as Gilbert thought.

With that in mind, Gilbert snatched up the flower at the first sign of Matthew heading downstairs and turned to face the stairs. Matthew was wearing an obviously tailored grey suit with a simple white shirt and black tie, a classic counterpart to Gilbert's modernity. They both smiled when they saw each other, though Gilbert couldn't help but notice the gleam Matthew's eyes took that instantly reminded him of that afternoon. The memory triggered a flood of images to race across his brain. He didn't know exactly what his face looked like at that moment, but he did feel the tension between them become sharper. A little had always been there under the surface during their time together, but it had become so much more tangible since they knew what acting on it felt like. If the air could spark from it, Gilbert was sure he would be seeing fireworks. It only got worse the closer Matthew got but they were both adults. They could control themselves, right?

"You look _very_ nice, Gil," Matthew said, just outside of Gilbert's personal space.

"I could say the same for you. This is for you," Gilbert said, offering the rose. Matthew looked down and seemed to see it for the first time. His smile widened into something less wanting. The mood shifted and Gilbert knew he made the right decision.

"Thank you, Gil. I really appreciate it."

Gilbert smiled back and was certain he looked moonstruck, but he didn't particularly care. He said, "Well, I'm happy you like it. Are you ready to go?"

Matthew put the rose down gently on the table and grabbed Gilbert's hand. A feeling akin to static electricity raced up Gilbert's arm at the contact and he fought the urge to shiver. Matthew said, pulling Gilbert towards the door, "Yes, I believe I am."

* * *

Matthew glanced at Gilbert across the table then quickly back to his silverware, suddenly nervous. He knew it made no sense, given all of the times they had gone out, the fact that he hadn't felt nervous in all the time it took for him to get ready and drive them here, and especially considering the fact that Gilbert was literally on top of him earlier. Yet here he was, fiddling with his knife and fork with nerves racing up his spine and an inability to look at Gilbert. He was at an utter loss for what to say, which was ridiculous because it hadn't been this hard to talk to him since that first night, if even then.

The silence lasted a minute or so and had felt increasingly awkward until Gilbert gave a sudden bark of laughter which caused Matthew to look up at him in confusion. Gilbert just shook his head and said with a self-depreciating smile, "Okay, I'm going to practice that honesty thing we talked about and just come out and say that I have no clue what I'm doing or even what to say?"

Matthew laughed and slumped in relief. "Thank God. I thought I was the only one."

"No, definitely not. Is, well, is this place okay? It's pretty close to what I was going for originally but if you don't like it we could always go someplace else."

"No, Gil, I actually really like this bar. You did great with picking the restaurant." It was the truth. While Matthew had never been here before, he had been delighted with large space that still managed to feel intimate in the darkened lighting and low beat of music. They had gotten a table along the wall which was one extended booth shared by all tables. They were only about two feet from other parties on either side, but their space felt like it had a bubble of privacy. There was a low rumble of background noise, but Matthew didn't feel the need to drastically increase his voice to be heard. He had already picked out what he was going to order and certainly wasn't disappointed with the small but diverse selection. No, Gilbert had done exceptionally well. Matthew continued, "Is it weird that I don't know what to say either?"

They looked at each other for a moment in shared bewilderment then Gilbert started to laugh. Matthew started a moment later because it really was funny in a sad way. Here they were, people who went from relative strangers to good friends in the span of a few weeks, had desperately wanted to date each other but couldn't think of a damn thing to actually _say_ on their date.

By the time they sobered up, their server had approached them with an amused expression, introduced himself then asked if they would like a few more minutes. Matthew shook his head and they both ordered (a whiskey cocktail and baked chicken dish for Matthew and a beer and burger for Gilbert). Their server left and they smiled at each other for a moment until Gilbert asked, "Want to start over?"

"Sure."

Gilbert leaned forward a little and said, "Hi."

Amused, Matthew mirrored his movements and said, "Hi."

They grinned at each other like idiots until Gilbert said, "You're really hot."

Matthew leaned back with a startled laugh, relieved as he felt the nerves slip away. This—this was natural.

"Surely you've seen yourself. Where did you go shopping: Fantasies 'R' Us?"

"Well, I knew I had a hot date tonight. I couldn't look anything less than my best."

"Well, in the spirit of honesty, you should know that I was very close to convincing you to stay in when I came downstairs."

This was easy.

"But then I wouldn't have been able to flaunt the fact to strangers that I got a great guy to go out with me."

Matthew shook his head a bit, feeling a blush rising and hoping the lighting hid it. "You're such a dork, you know that?"

This was almost perfect.

"You love it."

"Wouldn't have it any other way."

And it was exactly what he needed.

* * *

"I actually feel really good about it. I needed some time after the Wall and I'm still a little apprehensive now about going to a summit, but I also feel like I should have gone back a long time ago. It feels weird to be excited about spreadsheets, yet here I am."

"That's wonderful. I'm really happy for you, Gil," Matthew said, smiling as he pulled into his driveway. After he stopped being nervous, their date went very well. It was almost like every other time they had gone out to eat together in the past three weeks. The conversations had flowed, jokes either received a laugh or a groan (depending on how bad they were), and it hit him more than once how it felt like they had known each other for years rather than weeks. It was familiar but not the same, not at all.

Matthew had adapted to ignoring the tension of mutual attraction between them when they first met. Attraction did not equal compatibility and they were both interested in becoming friends rather than something else. So he had ignored it to the best of his ability though he never forgot that it was there. But tonight, it wasn't so much an undercurrent as a live wire between them. They flirted with each other in waves, swinging between blatant remarks between conversation topics and subtle glances and touches when they spoke of more mundane things. Gilbert, already one of the most tactile people Matthew had spent time with, found evermore excuses to touch him. At first, he wasn't obvious about it; a lingering touch of the hand as he reached over to show Matthew something on his phone, a brush of his foot as he shifted in his seat. By the time dessert came, however, Gilbert sat beside him on the elongated booth that made up the wall, arm wrapped around him as they shared a slice of cheesecake. Some might have found it clingy or felt claustrophobic but it just made Matthew feel wanted in the best way possible.

The only glitch in their evening had occurred as they were leaving the bar, hand in hand. A couple by the door made a rather homophobic set of comments that both saddened and hurt Matthew. He knew in his gut that they were his people, yet they wouldn't accept him if they knew him. It was a fact that he lived with and accepted, but he didn't like to be reminded of it personally. Despite the fact that Matthew worked to make his outward reaction minimal, Gilbert had somehow seen that he was upset. He didn't escalate the situation, he just looked at them. Matthew hadn't seen Gilbert's face but he had seen the immediate reaction of the couple. The woman had paled and the man had looked away, uncomfortable. When Matthew looked back at Gilbert, he was smiling softly at Matthew and urged them outside. He then pulled Matthew into a one armed hug and gave a lingering kiss to his temple before turning towards the car. Nothing was said about it, but he did feel better afterwards.

Matthew didn't know how he felt about Gilbert being able to read him that easily but he was too pleased with the evening to let it bother him too much. A quiet had descended on them as Matthew parked and they walked towards the house. Matthew was suddenly very aware of the fact that this was usually the part in the date where people said goodnight and went their separate ways…or didn't. Gilbert slept down the hall, it wasn't like there was anywhere else for him to go.

Matthew cleared his throat as he opened the door and walked into the house. Matthew licked his lips as he turned and said, "I had a really great time tonight, Gil."

Gilbert closed the door as he quipped back, "Good enough for a second date?"

Hearing the door catch, signaling their separation from the outside world, made Matthew's heart beat faster. He was surprised he sounded as steady as he did as he replied, "You could say that."

Gilbert started to move towards him and Matthew suddenly had a brilliant idea. Conjuring a teasing smile, he backed away from Gilbert until he felt the wall separating the foyer and the dining room at his back. Gilbert caught on quickly and followed until he all but caged Matthew in, a hand on either side of his head against the wall. His voice was low and rough as he said, "I'd rather hear you say it."

"Hmm, in that case," Matthew paused, enjoying the anticipation as he placed one hand on Gilbert's waist while the other pulled his tie from the waistcoat. Then, "Would you like to go on a date with me, Gilbert?"

Matthew watched Gilbert's expression turn wicked and knew instantly what Gilbert was going to say. He wasn't disappointed.

"Well, let me think."

They kissed and it was different from the times before. This wasn't soft and it wasn't desperate. It was best described as strategic. They both seemed to be doing their best to make the other fall apart. In the end, they both did.

Gilbert initiated the kiss but it was Matthew who pulled their bodies together. It was Gilbert's turn to learn the inside of Matthew's mouth but Matthew was far from a passive participant. No, he did his best to slow Gilbert's exploration, eventually wrapping their tongues together with a moan that made Gilbert release a startled noise. Gilbert coaxed a leg between Matthew's, against which Matthew happily rolled his hips with a whine. When Matthew had to turn his head away to breathe, Gilbert unerringly found that spot on his neck to mark again. Panting, Matthew breathed, "Is that a yes?"

Gilbert froze and pulled back to look at Matthew like he had lost his mind. Matthew just smirked at him, smug, though some of the effect was lost because he was still catching his breath. Sounding more than a little strangled, Gilbert said, "What the hell do you think?"

Matthew fisted Gilbert's tie in his hand to pull him close enough so he could nip at his jaw as he said, "I don't know, you haven't answered."

Gilbert chuckled a little and turned to catch Matthew's lips again. He kissed him slowly and thoroughly, leaving Matthew a little lightheaded when Gilbert finally pulled away to say, "Of course it's a yes." Gilbert disentangled them to rest his head on Matthew's shoulder for a moment, laughing quietly to himself.

Matthew laughed with him, saying, "Good to know. Consent is sexy."

"I don't know if I could survive you being hotter." Gilbert straightened to give Matthew another short kiss before stepping back. "That was one hell of a goodnight kiss."

Matthew reached out as he straightened, resting his palm on the side of Gilbert's neck as his thumb stroked back and forth. Still a little dazed, he said, "You're preaching to the choir, angel."

Gilbert snorted as he raised an eyebrow at the endearment. "Angel?"

Matthew winced and felt his face grow warm from embarrassment. "Yeah, sorry it just slipped out." He started to draw his hand away when Gilbert caught it and turned to kiss his palm as he smiled.

"Don't be, I kind of like it."

Matthew's face brightened. "Yeah?"

"Um-hm."

It was Matthew's turn to kiss Gilbert and it was sweet and lingering. He pulled away with a smile and said, "Goodnight, angel."

Gilbert grinned and said, "Goodnight, Birdie."

Matthew headed upstairs while Gilbert headed for the kitchen. He felt like he was walking on air. He fell asleep with a smile on his face, thinking about what they could do on their next date.

* * *

Matthew woke up three hours later, panting, drenched in sweat and as hard as a rock. Apparently his libido wasn't satisfied with how the night ended and decided to intervene. The dream was, well… it required attention. A little embarrassed because Gilbert was probably _right down the hall_ , Matthew took care of it, trying to stay as quiet as possible.

He wasn't as successful as he hoped. He prayed before slipping back into unconsciousness that Gilbert had either been downstairs or asleep.

Neither was the case.


	26. Chapter 25: Flying v. Falling

"Morning, Gil."

"Morning, Birdie." Gilbert glanced over his shoulder with a smile before quickly turning back to the stove as Matthew walked into the kitchen. It was rare that he was up before the other, so he had taken the opportunity to cook breakfast for a change. He wasn't attempting pancakes (he remembered how _that_ had went and any result would probably be an insult to the greatness that was Matthew's), but omelets. He hadn't expected to be alone for long and they were quick, straight forward, and delicious. It also satisfied Matthew's insistence on having more than one food group for breakfast.

"What are you making?" Matthew asked he came over to look for himself. He hummed in response as Gilbert folded the nearly done omelet over and continued, "You need me to do anything?"

Gilbert eyed the food before turning off the burner and looking at Matthew with a smirk. "A kiss would be nice?"

Matthew laughed and gave Gilbert a little shove. "I meant with breakfast, you dork."

Gilbert pouted, his eyes teasing. "You mean I can't get a good morning kiss? Birdie, I'm wounded."

Matthew rolled his eyes but his smile only brightened as he moved in closer. "Well, since you asked so nicely…"

Gilbert meant it just be a _good morning, happy to see you_ kiss when he leaned in to capture Matthew's lips. He even got as far as pulling back after a long moment, his hand on Matthew's neck. But Matthew chased him and pulled him back with a hand on his T-shirt. He bit Gilbert's lip and all of his good intentions flew out the window. He made a low sound in his throat and kissed back, his hands moving to pull Matthew closer by the waist and the back of his neck. He took advantage of Matthew's sigh, deepening the kiss and swallowing the resulting sound down with base satisfaction.

It wasn't long before he felt Matthew trying to slow them, so he pulled away and looked down to check on him. He stroked Matthew's jaw with his thumb and asked, "You okay?"

Matthew laughed a little to himself before saying, "The island is digging into my back."

"Oh." Gilbert hadn't realized he had pushed Matthew against the counter. "Why didn't you say so?" Then he pulled back a just enough to quickly pick Matthew up by his hips and set him on the island so he was standing between his legs. "Better?"

Matthew stared through him for a moment, eyes out of focus with only a thin sliver of dark blue visible. He blinked a few times then let out a shaky sigh. "Yeah."

"Good." He leaned in to continue kissing him only to hear a low, angry rumble from Matthew's stomach. Gilbert raised his eyebrows and backed away as Matthew shot his stomach a look of betrayal. "I'm going to take a wild guess and say that you're hungry?"

"I'm not _that_ hungry," Matthew said, sounding as put out as Gilbert had ever heard. He laughed and then, because he could, kissed the tip of Matthew's nose before turning away to put the omelet on a plate. The other was already in the oven to keep it warm, so he pulled that out too. He turned off the oven and walked towards the table. It was only after the put the plates down did he realize Matthew hadn't moved and was looking at him with utter bewilderment written all over his face.

"What?"

"You…you just…how did you?"

"Um…?"

"You can't just go from sexy to adorable like that."

Gilbert smirked and grabbed them some silverware. "Apparently I can."

Matthew was shaking his head as he stood. As he moved to get them glasses, he said, "It's against the rules. I have whiplash."

"There are no rules."

"Of course there are rules. Everything has rules."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes, really."

"I thought all was fair in love and war."

"Yeah, well, whoever came up with _that_ obviously never had a real relationship or fought in a war."

Gilbert didn't say anything immediately in response, too busy grinning at their domesticity. Matthew continued speaking, distracted by cutting his food and the roll he was on. "I mean, seriously Gil, you can't go from being well on your way to making me forget my name to kissing me on the nose like I'm the most adorable thing you've ever seen. It puts a man off balance." He took a bite, humming appreciatively. "Oh, this is good."

Matthew froze then, fork mid-motion as noticed for the first time that Gilbert hadn't said anything in a while. Gilbert practically heard the gears in Matthew's head stop as his brain caught up with his mouth. He continued smiling, albeit with raised eyebrows now.

The silence stretched for a moment before Gilbert prompted, "You were saying?"

"This is a really good omelet."

"No, I meant that thing about forgetting your name?" Amusement and smug satisfaction laced his voice and Matthew groaned in response, embarrassed because he clearly never meant to say about half of that.

Matthew looked down at his food again, electing to ignore Gilbert if only to move on from this. He said with as much venom as possible (not much at all), "You're awful."

"That's not what you were saying last night or five seconds ago." Gilbert started to laugh until he saw that Matthew was actually really embarrassed. He stopped teasing and said gently, "Sorry. If it makes you feel better, I forget things when you touch me, too."

Matthew's flushed deepened but Gilbert saw the small smile that appeared on his face. Satisfied, Gilbert tucked in to his meal and Matthew picked up the conversation, changing the topic to what they needed to buy for the week at the grocery store. Gilbert followed his lead and then it felt like any other breakfast they shared.

Well, not quite. When they stood to clean up and Matthew kissed him on the cheek with a soft _thanks for breakfast, angel_ , Gilbert thought that today's breakfast was better than any before.

* * *

Matthew wasn't blind or stupid. He knew things were progressing rather quickly. Before they started dating, Gilbert was already de facto living in his house and they had reached a level of comfort with each other that was usually reserved for close friendships. All this transitioned rather easily once romance started to creep in. He was comfortable with that and was ecstatic things were going so well. The thing that gave Matthew pause was that it felt like Gilbert went from being a visitor to them living _together,_ which was a little too fast for him.

The thing between them was new and intense. They slipped into domesticity so easily that it felt like breathing. The rapport between them was as strong as it ever was, only changing in tone when they were actively flirting. And that scared him.

This was how it always was between them, including the night Gilbert had arrived, still emotionally reeling from Roderich. The dreams Gilbert had early on and his insecurities over being anything but normal were proof enough that he was still hurting. That was fine, expected even, and Matthew respected Gilbert's privacy and pain. But the thought that he was just a placeholder nagged at him in the quiet hours when they took the time to be by themselves.

Matthew knew that, if he wanted those feelings to go away, all he had to do was go upstairs to find Gilbert in his office, reading over whatever Ludwig had sent him. He would smile at him and Matthew would forget Roderich. The rest of the world would fall away with a touch and with a kiss… Just being with Gilbert felt like he was flying. It felt _so good_. Too good, to the point that it was frightening.

Matthew knew the end before they began. He made peace with the idea that Gilbert would leave him eventually. Hell, Gilbert had even made sure to say _if we don't work out_ before he mentioned staying his friend. Matthew believed that he would always be a call away and that Gilbert didn't lie to him earlier. He knew Gilbert had good intentions. He also knew where that road led.

The problem was that he never expected being together to feel as amazing as it did. He reveled in the feeling. Even with his thoughts of the future, Matthew still felt content to his bones, a strange sensation of happiness that threatened to make him smile at any given moment like a love-struck teenager. He promised himself that he would enjoy the present and he was. But, by God, he never expected this.

He never expected the protectiveness he felt towards Gilbert, a desire to avenge his pain and defend his heart. He never expected the intimacy between them, both platonic and otherwise; a passion that could break him apart in the best way. He never expected the caring, thoughtfulness, excitement or joy or the idea that Gilbert would match him, point by point, at every turn. He never expected to fall in love.

Matthew recoiled from that thought so violently that he flinched. This couldn't be love; it was far too soon, Matthew knew that. But he also knew that if love was more than what he was feeling now, then he might not survive when Gilbert left. Every second they spent together, the higher Matthew flew. It would just make his fall all the more painful. And fuck if that wasn't terrifying.

Kumajiro entered the room and wandered over to Matthew. Despite his mood, Matthew smiled at the polar bear and reached towards him. Kumajiro laid his head on Matthew's stomach and whined a bit. He could always sense when Matthew needed comfort and he wasn't wrong.

Because Matthew would be _damned_ if he let his fear take this slice of happiness away from him. But by putting off the inevitable (because _really_ , how else could this end?), he just made letting go harder. Matthew would fight for Gilbert, fight for _them_. But he would never make Gilbert stay where he was unhappy and the thought of Gilbert just staying to save his feelings made him physically ill. So he would have to let go, sooner or later. Though Matthew would always choose later, he knew how this ended.

He was damned if he did and damned if he didn't. _Since I'm already going to hell,_ he thought, _I might as well enjoy the way down_.

* * *

Matthew poked his head into his office and said, "Hey, Gil? Do you have a second?"

Already looking in meant that Matthew had the opportunity to see Gilbert's face light up when he saw him as his frown of concentration stretched into a smile. The flying feeling returned and he absently thought that his heart had no chance at all. Because that expression? It was enough to make Matthew think that he wasn't in love _yet_ , but he was well on his way. _Well,_ he thought, _I'm fucked._ A voice in his head that sounded a bit like Gilbert whispered back, _not yet, you aren't._

Matthew shivered a little and Gilbert, oblivious, said, "Always for you, Birdie. What's up?"

Matthew hesitated, second guessing the timing of this conversation. Gilbert could be in the middle of something and it felt a little presumptuous to even be bringing it up. Then again, they were both free of alcohol and hormones and it was better talk about this _now_ rather than when it would actually matter.

Gilbert noticed the hesitation and his smile dimmed, worry beginning to creep into his eyes. Matthew wondered at how he could read that as Gilbert asked, "Is everything all right?"

"Yeah, yes everything is fine. It's just…are you in the middle of something?"

"Nope. Just let me—" Gilbert clicked around for a moment before closing the laptop completely. Matthew was fully aware that he could have been doing something, but dropped it for him anyway. "You now have my undivided attention."

That worrying warmth spread through Matthew again and he began to explain himself. "Just hear me out, okay? We don't have to talk about this now if you don't want to and I'm not assuming anything. Okay, I am assuming _something_ but I'm not _expecting_ anything. I don't want you to feel pressured or uncomfortable, so just let me know if you are, eh?"

Gilbert didn't even try to hide the worry on his face. "Mattie, you're scaring me by talking around _whatever_ it is, so just say it. I'm not going to cut and run if—"

" _I want to have sex with you_ ," Matthew blurted out, nerves getting the better of him. He felt his face heat as Gilbert's face cleared of worry and went straight for astonishment. Then, to his great surprise, Gilbert started to blush, too, just a light dusting of pink on his cheeks. Matthew had forgotten how pretty Gilbert looked when he blushed just a little. This didn't seem like the time to comment on it though.

Gilbert cleared his throat with a slight cough and said, "Is that a problem? Because the feeling's mutual."

Their eyes met and that now familiar tension appeared, thicker than before. Matthew licked his suddenly dry lips. Gilbert's eyes flicked down to follow the movement and Matthew struggled to remember what he needed to say. Oh, right. Sex.

"Great. Brilliant. We need to talk about that."

Gilbert's posture shifted slightly in his seat and Matthew got the feeling that he was being hunted in the best possible way. His voice had shifted to a slightly lower register by the time he said, "What's there to talk about?"

"Limits and safewords, for one."

Gilbert seemed startled for some reason, sitting upright with a soft, "Oh."

"Yeah, _oh_. Let's start off easy: do you have a specific safeword or are you good with traffic lights?"

Gilbert swallowed before he answered, "Grunwald. My safeword is Grunwald."

Matthew paused. "Are you okay, angel?"

Gilbert seemed to shake himself and said, "Yeah, sorry about that. What's yours, if you have one?"

"No need to apologize. Mine is Châteauguay. I know it's a bit of a mouthful but that's what it is."

"Hey, no judgements here. As long as it works for you."

Matthew smiled only to have it fade as he asked, "Hard limits?"

Gilbert winced and rubbed his neck a bit. "I don't like being held down at all or pain beyond some biting, hair pulling, or scratch marks. I can't do breath-play or anything with temperature. Role playing is also out for me. I don't like feeling like I'm not myself."

Matthew fought to make sure the concern he felt stayed off his face and wasn't sure if succeeded. He nodded and said, "None but the obvious bodily fluids, though some blood is okay with me."

Gilbert blanched and said, "Jesus, yeah, for me, too."

"Good to know. I'm pretty much fine with anything that doesn't scar or maim. I'm not a huge fan of pain, but find it can enjoyable in the right mindset."

Gilbert blinked slowly a few times, apparently trying to process the information. "That leaves a lot open, Birdie."

"Yeah, I know. There's just a few things I can really think of to mention. I don't do humiliation and I never want to feel like I mean nothing to you."

"Trust me, that won't ever happen."

Matthew's mouth quirked to one side for a second before he let the bittersweet feeling go. Possessiveness filled him for a minute and he felt his eyes harden as he said, "One last thing: I don't share."

Gilbert picked up on Matthew's meaning and smiled in a way that was nearly feral. "Neither do I."

They smiled at each other and the air became heavier, the air between them crackling with more violence than before. In that atmosphere, Matthew asked, "Would you be comfortable with holding me down?"

Gilbert's eyes got darker. "Yeah, I can do that. I just don't think I will be able to deliberately hurt you. I know it might feel good to you, but I don't think I could do it."

"That's fine. I just want you to be comfortable. I'm pretty flexible."

Gilbert raised his eyebrows at that and Matthew realized the double meaning. He just shrugged at him. Both were true. Gilbert let out a bark of laughter, like he couldn't believe this, only to ask, "Anything else I should know?"

"Oh, yeah. I forgot to mention that I'm a switch, but I think that covers it for me. You?"

"I prefer to top, but I enjoy bottoming, too. Now, can I ask you what you _do_ like or do you want me to figure it out?"

"I'll tell you some things but you know field testing theories is always the best method of learning."

"That might take a while. I have a lot of theories and you know replication of experiments is the best way to prove your results."

Matthew laughed because Gilbert had never sounded more like the nerd he was but, hey, he liked smart men. So instead of making fun of him, he went with it. "Your method sounds reasonable and I'm counting on it taking a long time. It's always good to be thorough."

They grinned at each other, having fun with the moment. "You're right. I'm lucky to have such astute partner."

"I doubt you'll find better."

"I'm sure of it." Matthew inhaled sharply at that and the air shifted again. Gilbert's expression didn't change much, but it did gain an edge that already had Matthew moving before Gilbert even finished saying, "Come here."

Matthew knew that the chair wasn't wide enough that he could comfortably straddle Gilbert so he put his hands on the arms of it and leaned down, saying, "I have an idea."

"I'm listening."

"It's kind of an 'I'll show you mine if you show me yours' deal."

Gilbert voice sounded strained when he said, " _Still_ listening."

"I'll tell you something I like then you tell me something you like. How about five things each? That way there's still plenty of room for trial and error. We can do this throughout our date tonight, but we have to make sure that no one else notices what we're talking about."

Gilbert groaned and looked pained. "We'll be in public and I won't be able to touch you."

He grinned. "I know. But Gil," Matthew lowered his eyes and bit his lip deliberately, acting as shy as he usually was yet feeling anything but. He looked back at Gilbert with wide eyes and said, "Don't you want to play with me?"

"Fuck." Gilbert surged upwards to catch Matthew in a bruising kiss. Matthew gasped, delighted that he pushed Gilbert to the point just having to touch him. He pressed Gilbert back into the chair, making sure not to move his hands from the arm rest. He was still restless from this thoughts before and felt the urge to tell Gilbert, just release his tension. He couldn't actually say it, too afraid and cautious to put it into words, so he tried to put everything he was feeling into that kiss. All the desire, (not quite, damn it) love, desperation, and fear, everything.

Something must have gotten through to Gilbert after a few moments because he made a high, almost distressed sound and touched Matthew's face as he slowed the kiss. Matthew tried to make it as frantic as before, regretting his impulsive action, but Gilbert was insistent. He slowed his movements until Matthew was forced to follow and the kiss went from lustful to languid.

Gilbert pulled back enough to say, "Come here." He used one hand to bend one of Matthew's elbows and the other to twist his hips downward, forcing him to almost fall into Gilbert's lap with his sudden lack of balance. Matthew's mind went blank and he easily accepted Gilbert turning his head to re-initiate the kiss. He let out a sound that came from his voice cracking, only to have the sound drowned by Gilbert's grunt of satisfaction of having Matthew close. Distantly, he thought, _why am I telling him anything? He clearly already has me pinned._

Gilbert never let their kiss speed, only deepen and Matthew felt higher than before. If his feelings were a cup, it was already nearly full and every second Gilbert spent touching him like this was another drop of liquid. He was helpless to stop it from overflowing if this went on, so he had to stop this. Like, five minutes ago.

He slowly pulled away, hand soft on Gilbert's face to reassure him that nothing was wrong even though something _really_ was. Well, it was nothing Gilbert did wrong. If anything, he was doing too much right.

The sound of their heavy breathing echoed through the otherwise silent room. Matthew found himself sitting sideways on Gilbert's lap. Gilbert had an arm around his back, hand resting on his thigh, with the other snaked around him to grip his shoulder. It was with that hand that Gilbert began to rub his back soothingly and Matthew opened his eyes to see surprise and concern on Gilbert's face. It wasn't surprise born of Matthew pulling back, but looked something like discovery, like he had found something he wasn't even looking for and Matthew really needed to leave this room.

Matthew nipped at Gilbert's bottom lip before pulling away completely and standing up. Gilbert seemed to resist at first but let him go easily enough. The concern in his face only increased and he asked, "Birdie, are you okay? Did I do some—"

"No, you didn't do anything wrong, angel, I promise," Matthew had to nip that thought in the bud immediately. Gilbert shouldn't have to feel bad because of his issues and Matthew knew his priorities rested with making sure Gilbert was happy. Leaving was already hard enough but if Gilbert thought that he did something wrong then Matthew would never make it out of this room. "I just remembered I had to do something, that's all." It wasn't a lie, but it felt like one. It wasn't like he could just come out and say, _hey, I had to stop you kissing me like that because it will make me love you and I'm not ready for that_ , so his explanation would have to suffice.

Gilbert frowned like he didn't quite believe him but said, "Okay, as long as you're alright…"

"I am," Matthew smiled and it felt like too much. He had to leave, but needed to make Gilbert think about something other than what just happened. So he headed towards the door only to stop in the doorway and smirk at him with wickedness he didn't have to fake. He said, "I'll tell you one, free of charge."

"Oh, yeah?" Gilbert leaned forward to rest his arms on the desk and looked interested enough. "And what's that?"

"I tease a lot, but I always deliver." Matthew left the room, feeling like Gilbert was distracted enough. Now he had to find a way to distract himself.

He stopped in his room to change and then headed down to his home gym. It was easier not to think when you were fighting your body to keep moving. That sounded like the best option at the moment.

* * *

To say that Gilbert was on edge would be an understatement. Matthew seemed to be dealing with the way the mood changed between them relatively easily outside of what happened that morning. But how they could go from hot-and-heavy to playful then almost violently passionate only to go back to calm friendship in a short period of time left him dizzy. It was a good feeling, but it wasn't exactly easy to adjust to. He'd manage.

He hadn't seen Matthew much since their talk in the office and it had been several hours. He didn't think Matthew was avoiding him, per se, but he certainly didn't linger when they ran into each other in the kitchen. Matthew was sweaty from a workout and Gilbert was about to say something when Matthew just smiled and jogged past him, saying something about not being late. It wouldn't have worried Gilbert by itself but Matthew hadn't been as smooth as he thought when he all but ran out the room earlier. Yes, Gilbert had been distracted at the thought of Matthew teasing him all night only to make good on all of it later. He wasn't ashamed to admit that; Matthew was distracting. But it didn't make him forget what he felt when Matthew first kissed him back or how he looked right before he left.

That kiss. That kiss was the equivalent to Matthew's bittersweet smile that said he wanted so much but never expected to get it, the one that Gilbert never wanted to see again. He didn't know if Matthew meant for him to understand what he was feeling from a kiss alone or even if he meant to put that much emotion into it but, God help him, he thinks he got the gist of it.

He had known Matthew wanted him, had felt just how much on more than one occasion. He had known Matthew cared about him, a fact that had been proven time and time again. He had known that Matthew was afraid of him leaving. But he never could have guessed that he felt those things as deeply as he did. Matthew kissed him like he was the air he needed to breathe and like he was the most precious thing in the world. It felt like a claiming, like Matthew wouldn't dare let anyone else near him because Gilbert was _his_. It felt like Matthew loved him. All this would have had Gilbert jumping for joy because _holy shit, we may actually have a shot_ and _thank God, now I never have to let him go_ , if not for one thing.

It also had felt like Matthew was fucking terrified.

Gilbert doesn't think Matthew noticed, but his hands had been shaking hard enough to rock the seat. Gilbert had tried to comfort him by pulling him close and slowing them down enough for Matthew to get that Gilbert cared about him, too, so very much. Matthew had fought him but when he did slow he seemed to shake harder for a moment, even as he gave himself over to the kiss. The trembling had stopped suddenly when Gilbert had pulled him down and didn't return by the time Matthew pulled away. Fear had been written all over his face before it went blank with something like resignation. That, more than anything, worried him.

Gilbert didn't want to push because Matthew had respected his privacy, but it was hard knowing there was something wrong but not being able to help. So he had let Matthew go and watch him put on a brave face before running away. From what, he could only guess.

If Matthew was afraid of his feelings, then there wasn't much Gilbert could do besides be a steady, caring presence. He would do his best to treat Matthew right because he deserved nothing less and try to show him that there really was nothing to be afraid of here. At least, not from him. Showing was always more convincing than telling, anyway.

So Gilbert was going to go out with Matthew and play his game. They were going to have a great time and afterwards, if Matthew said yes, Gilbert was going to do his best to take him apart, piece by piece. Then, once he put him back together, maybe Matthew would understand.

* * *

It was during a pause in their casual conversation in the car that Gilbert decided to ask how exactly this whole thing was going to work.

He started with, "So, I'm assuming there are some rules to this game?"

Matthew shot him a shit-eating grin before looking back the road. "How'd ya guess?"

"Call it a shot in the dark," Gilbert said, deadpan. Matthew laughed.

"Let me think about it for a second." There was only a short moment of waiting before Matthew continued with, "Okay, we each mention five things that we like during sex, one at a time, throughout the night. We alternate, but we don't have to share immediately after the other does. Whoever breaks first or does something to draw attention to the fact that we are doing something inappropriate loses."

"What qualifies as breaking?"

"Touching more than what most people would be comfortable witnessing in public or suggesting we go home early."

"When does it start?"

"As soon as this conversation's finished."

They pulled up to a newly red light. Gilbert said, "In that case…" and reached across the car to pull Matthew in to a brief but filthy kiss. Gilbert gave Matthew no time to react as he used his hand to open Matthew's mouth a little to pull his tongue into his mouth and suck. It wasn't graceful or neat, but it was effective. Matthew made a high pitched startled sound and just started to kiss back when Gilbert jerked away to see the light turn green. He smiled innocently at Matthew's blank look and said, "Light's green, Birdie."

Matthew turned back towards the road in a slight daze and they began moving again. He wiped at his mouth and said, "I'm going to get you back for that. It's going on the list."

"What list?"

"Of things that I need to get you back for, of course."

"What? Why is there a list if there's only this one thing?"

"No, you tickled me. That's on the list, too."

"You're serious."

"I told you when it happened that I was going to get revenge. I don't know why you're surprised."

Gilbert chuckled nervously, remembering Matthew had said something about getting revenge when he least expected it. He swallowed and suggested, "Can we get back on topic, please?"

"Yes, let's." Matthew blew an audible breath then said, "Do you have any other questions?"

"When does the game end?"

"When we step through my front door or someone loses."

"What does the winner get?"

Matthew smirked at him, "Whatever they want."

"If no one loses?"

"Then we both win."

Gilbert thought for a moment about what he wanted. He smiled and said, "I like this game."

"Then are you ready to start?"

"Yeah, let's do this."

"Great! I'll go first." There was a solid minute of quiet, only the radio saving them from silence, while Gilbert waited for Matthew to say something. When he finally did, he said, "Are you okay with flying to Stockholm early Thursday morning?"

Gilbert looked at him, the question not quite registering in his brain for a second because it was so far from what he expected. Then he laughed, a little hysterically from the tension, for a second and said, "Yes, that's fine. Do we have any layovers?"

"We have one in London, but we'll make good time if the weather co-operates."

"Sounds good to me. I'll have to tell Ludwig when we arrive so we can meet up. He said earlier that he wanted to talk with me that night so we could go over a few things before the meeting."

"Oh. That sounds reasonable." There was something off about Matthew's voice. Gilbert couldn't quite place it but it didn't sound good. It seemed like there was something he wasn't saying. "I should call Alfred, though he'll probably be busy with Arthur or something."

"I'm sure he'll want to see you. You could call Francy-pants, too. He's mentioned you enough time to me in the past to want to see you."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Why do you sound like you don't believe me?"

Matthew sighed. "It's not that I think you're lying, Gil. It's that I hadn't heard from Francis outside of work for over a year until he called looking for you. On that note, I haven't seen Alfred in months, though he does call periodically."

"What? Shit, I'm sorry, Birdie." Gilbert couldn't imagine what that was like. He had lived with Ludwig for most of the time since he found him and never went long without seeing Francis, Antonio, or Alistair, at the very least. He reached over, took one of Matthew's hands, and interlaced their fingers. It was within the rules and Matthew could drive with one hand. He squeezed it gently and asked, "What happened when you called them?"

"They would talk a bit but it usually seemed like they were rushing through the conversation and I got the impression that I was bothering them. I don't know if that was true, but I felt like it was. So I called less frequently until I stopped trying altogether with Francis and only call Alfred every few months."

Gilbert frowned. "What about Nate and Yekaterina? You said you know them, right?'

Matthew shot him a surprised look. "You remember that?"

"Of course I do. I remember most of what you tell me."

Matthew smiled and said, "Nate isn't one for many words, though we're friendly when we see each other. Katyusha is nice and we do talk occasionally, but she truly is busy. Whenever we do talk she seems delighted. I talk to Alistair, of course. Arthur calls, and while it's mostly for business or to complain about my brother, he really is friendly. He even stopped mistaking Alfred and I when we meet in person. I'm really happy he did, especially because it was right after they started sleeping together."

"That's certainly incentive, I guess."

Matthew laughed. "I have no hard feelings towards Arthur. He wasn't unpleasant towards me growing up and, admittedly, Alfred and I do look a lot alike. Also, he was genuinely apologetic whenever he mixed us up."

"I don't think you look like your brother _that_ much. I could never mistake you for being anyone but you."

"Yeah, but you're different."

The smiled at each other for a moment before Matthew turned towards the road again. After a few minutes of comfortable quiet, the silence broken on by the sounds of the radio, Gilbert said, "Hey, Birdie?"

"Yes, angel?"

"Would you call me your boyfriend?"

The question seemed to throw Matthew for a second as he turned into a parking lot. It belonged to the music lounge they were going to and seemed reasonably full for a Saturday night. Frowning, Matthew said, sounding cautious and confused, "Well, I think of you as my boyfriend, though we don't have to call each other that. I mean, do you not _want_ to be my boyfriend?"

"No, I do! I just didn't know if you thought of us that way. I, uh, well. I wanted to know how to introduce you to my brother. If you wouldn't mind, I mean. And, maybe if you didn't have anything else to do Thursday night, you could go to dinner with us? You certainly don't have to if you don't want to." Gilbert winced through his blush, finally able to stop himself from saying anything more.

Matthew parked the car and turned to look at Gilbert. He was frowning a little, not like he was mad but just didn't know what was going on. "You can introduce me as your boyfriend if you want, Gil, and I'll think about dinner, but is that what you really want to know?"

"What do you mean?"

"Do you want to keep our relationship a secret?"

Gilbert flinched because what? Matthew sounded calm but there was an edge to it, like this was a precursor to a fight. "No. I don't want to hide. Sure, I'm not going to run through Stockholm with a loud speaker announcing that we're dating but I wasn't planning on going out of my way to hide us. Why? Do you want to keep us a secret?" The thought hurt more than he expected.

Matthew sighed and closed his eyes. "No, Gil, I don't."

"Then where is this coming from?"

Matthew pinched the bridge of his nose and said, "I'm sorry, Gil, I am so sorry. I shouldn't have even asked. It's just, I know Roderich is going to be there and I didn't know if you would want to…"

"What, be with you?" Matthew didn't say anything. Gilbert felt awful because he hadn't even thought about Roderich being there and he really should have. He said softly, "Oh, no, Mattie. Please, _Schätzchen_ , look at me." Matthew did and Gilbert saw the doubt in his eyes.

He had to fix this, so he said, "Birdie, I hadn't even thought about Roderich being there, I swear. I don't want to hide because I'm the luckiest guy in the world. I'm dating one of the best people I have met in my many years and he seems to want me to stick around for some reason. I want to share that with my family because I know they would want to meet you properly and would be happy for me. That's all."

Matthew looked floored for some reason and Gilbert really needed to touch him. He asked, "Can I please kiss you?"

Matthew nodded and Gilbert kissed him the same way he did earlier, trying his best to reassure his shy boyfriend who seemed to have been by hurt so much. Matthew made a broken sound and kissed him back with everything he had. Gilbert pulled away slowly, aware of their surroundings, and touched his forehead to Matthew's as he tried to catch his breath.

In that quiet, Matthew breathed, "I really like being marked. It makes me feel wanted, like I'm claimed."

Gilbert smiled and chuckled lightly to himself. "Is that why you ripped my shirt?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, _Schätzchen_." Gilbert kissed Matthew again briefly and then pulled away completely. "Okay. Do you still want to go out?"

Matthew smiled weakly at him but nodded. "Yeah. I'll be fine and we're already here. Come on."

They got out of the car and walked towards the lounge's entrance hand-in-hand. Gilbert hoped that what he had done was enough for now.

* * *

Matthew was well and truly fucked. He'd flown too close to the sun, jumped down the rabbit hole, and dived into a shark-infested tank. There was no saving him now. He was in love with Gilbert, damn the timeline. It shouldn't have happened, but that kiss was the straw that broke the camel's back. It shouldn't be true, but it was and now Matthew had no choice but to deal with it.

* * *

About 20 minutes had passed before Gilbert felt comfortable enough to answer Matthew's silent request to go about their evening as planned. They had both grown more relaxed listening to the neo-classical versions of popular songs as provided by the talented local band headlining the club's entertainment. It was dark (even the performance space was dimly lit) and relatively crowded as round tables with two or more chairs littered the area just behind the dancefloor and just before the bigger booths lining the walls.

They were sitting at one of these tables side-by-side, drinks in hand and maybe half a meter from the other table when Gilbert leaned closer to Matthew and say, "I tend to get a really filthy mouth once things get past a certain point. I like telling my partners exactly what I'm doing and thinking, so I really hope you don't mind dirty talk."

Matthew blinked at him as he moved back to his previous position with his arm stretched around the back of Matthew's chair and his eyes facing front towards the band. To any other person, Gilbert looked like he had just leaned in to be heard over the music, not so other people didn't hear. It was a commonplace and subtle gesture, so Matthew looked like the strange one for blinking owlishly at Gilbert for a moment before smirking and all but draining his drink. When he was done, his voice sounded rough as he said, "I don't mind at all."

A good half-hour passed of maybe-if-we-ignore-it-then-it will-go-away tension and friendly conversation before Matthew said during one of the band's breaks, "I really like being manhandled."

"Oh, I _had_ noticed that," Gilbert said, smug because he remembered how Matthew's eyes had gone blank both times he had moved him like he weighed nothing. He shot back, voice low, "I get off on my partner's pleasure. The more I make you fall apart, the more relentless I am. Do you understand?"

Gilbert watched Matthew close his eyes and do a full body shudder. Gilbert trailed in fingers against the back of his neck in a motion designed to look like he was reaching for his drink, but they both knew it was deliberate. Matthew's hands formed fists has he fought his body's reaction to Gilbert's words and the knowledge that Gilbert was watching his every move. When he had regained control over himself, Matthew's gaze sought out their server to signal for a third drink. If Gilbert hadn't been paying such close attention to him, he would have missed Matthew's soft, "Yeah, I think I understand."

Their interactions were more aggressive after that, each trying to push the other to their limit despite the fact they both knew it didn't matter if someone actually "won" their game. The end would be the same, regardless. So their touches lingered a second longer than what was appropriate and they didn't try to hide just how effected they were in their voices. By an unspoken agreement, they were waiting for the band's next set to end before leaving. The music was good and they were both enjoying the unique arrangements but they were having trouble noticing anything beyond each other.

About halfway through, Matthew said, "I like feeling dirty after sex, like everyone will be able to see what happened even after I've cleaned up."

"What exactly does that mean?"

Matthew looked at Gilbert in the eye with a flash of…something. He had never seen the look before from Matthew and the best Gilbert could describe it would be darkly knowing. It set him on edge.

Matthew let the question linger for a moment before saying, almost contemplatively, "I believe the modern term for someone like me is 'come slut.'"

Gilbert's brain broke. That was the only word to describe it because for a second he literally could not process what those words meant. If he was a computer, his eyes would be flashing the "Error 404" message. Maybe it was his mind trying to save him because once he _did_ understand, a series of rapid images flashed through his mind of what that looked like and how that would work and Gilbert lost minutes of time.

When he finally came back to himself, Matthew was humming idly with the song and tapping his foot to the beat. They were holding hands on top of the table and Matthew was distractedly running his thumb over Gilbert's knuckles. To top it all off, Matthew shot him a wide-eyed, innocent look. Gilbert thought he was in shock.

What he said was, "How are you even real?"

Matthew shrugged and then, when Gilbert didn't stop staring at him, laughed. "Calm down, angel. I'm teasing you. No one uses that term outside of porn and I said it to shock you. I really am half joking."

"But doesn't that mean you're also half serious?"

Matthew shrugged again and smiled.

Gilbert drained his drink, hoping the alcohol would help him make sense of the situation, and signaled for another. He wasn't complaining, not in the least. He would have been completely mad to complain that his boyfriend was more than a little adventurous in the bedroom. It's just… "Okay, you've got to help me out here. I'm not judging and I am _so_ not complaining, but you're being, well, _brazen_ , when usually you're reserved. I also didn't expect you to be so…"

"Freaky? Kinky?"

"…Open to not only liking this stuff but being able to talk about it comfortably."

"Sex is just different for me, Gil. There are very few expectations as far as politeness goes. If you and your partner aren't on the same page then the sex will not only not live up to its full potential, but can be dangerous. Also, I _like_ sex and I'm not ashamed of that or how many different ways I like it. If I don't let you know what feels good, then why would you keep doing it or even try it out?"

"So you've always been this vocal? I'm not trying to interrogate you, I'm just trying to understand."

"I know, angel." Matthew leaned in to give him a brief kiss. "Most of the time, there are rules of society that keeps us civil towards each other. A lot of people break them or simply don't care, but I'm very cautious not to hurt or offend anyone because that is how I would like to be treated. I know the world isn't kind or fair, but I try to be. Sex has absolutely nothing to do with that besides mutual consent and respect. But to answer your question, no, I haven't always been as vocal about it. I had, well, an unfortunate experience because my partner and I didn't communicate. I survived because of what I am and he was devastated at the thought of hurting me, but it's not something I ever wanted to repeat.

"I also think that the fact that it's _you_ makes me all the more determined to make things absolutely clear."

Gilbert took all that in and it made sense. It was just so _Matthew_ when he explained it. But he didn't get that last bit. "What makes me different?" His drink arrived and he started to take a sip.

"Well, you're my first boyfriend and the first Nation I've been with. If you thi—Gil!"

Gilbert started to choke on his whiskey when the sentence was half done and was too distracted by the end to try to cough. He felt the liquid reach his lungs and he had to excuse himself to the restroom to cough like he was trying to expel his entire cardiovascular system rather than a little alcohol. He was incapable of drowning but it still hurt.

When Gilbert returned, Matthew looked very worried. He wiped at his eyes and said, his voice rough from coughing. "Sorry, sorry. I'm okay. What were you saying?"

"You're my first boyfriend. I've only ever had sex with humans and I couldn't exactly commit to them. Francis warned me off of that when I was a child. I saw how torn up he was over Joan even centuries later and never took the risk to actually date a human. Is… that a problem?" Matthew sounded worried again.

"Of course not, _Schätzchen_." Gilbert kissed his forehead and drew him into a hug. "I just don't understand how no one saw what I see."

"That's the other part of what makes you special, Gil. I haven't felt the need to be anything but myself with you, even the rude and mean bits that I keep under control almost constantly. You not only accepted those sides but encouraged them because they are a part of me. How could I not treat you differently?"

Matthew looked slightly up at Gilbert when he asked the question with a small frown. Gilbert's breath caught and he fought every urge he had to kiss Matthew exactly as he wanted. Instead he said, "The set is almost over." He thought Matthew would understand what he wasn't saying and he was right.

"Yes, it is."

The vocalist for the band, a small, curvy woman with mahogany skin and beautiful braids, said, "This next one is a song we just finished arraigning from the original. We would like you to be the first to hear it. This is our take on Lana Del Rey's 'Million Dollar Man.'"

The song began slowly and Gilbert leaned towards Matthew to say, "I love doing oral."

Gilbert felt Matthew startle, like he had forgotten they were still playing. Then he squeezed his hand and Gilbert saw Matthew's breathing speed out of the corner of his eye. He was still facing the stage and the woman began to sing.

" _You said I was the most exotic flower_

_Holding me tight in our final hour_

_I don't know how you convince them and get them but,_

_I don't know what you do. It's unbelievable._

_And I don't know how you get over, get over_

_Someone as dangerous, tainted, and flawed as you._

_One for the money. Two for the show._

_I love you, honey. I'm ready, I'm ready to go._

_How did you get that way? I don't know._

_You're screwed up and brilliant,_

_Look like a million dollar man._

_So why is my heart broke?"_

"I'm a voyeur."

Gilbert looked at Matthew who was looking quite pointedly at the stage and smiled. "That's interesting, because I'm an exhibitionist. But you probably could have guessed that."

Matthew smirked. "Makes sense after what you did when we went to the nightclub."

" _You got the world,_

_But, baby, at what price?_

_Something so strange,_

_Hard to define._

_It isn't that hard, boy, to like you_

_Or love you._

_I'd follow you down, down, down._

_You're unbelievable."_

"You know I danced like that just for you, right?"

Matthew's entire body flinched and he snapped his head around to look at Gilbert. "What?"

Gilbert cringed a little because he was more than aware of how soon that happened after they had met. "At first, I wasn't thinking about putting on a _show_ just for you. Yes, I was showing off a bit but I hadn't thought about seriously seducing you or anything like that. Then I met that woman, Alex, and she made it clear that her suggestion would benefit us both. I denied that there was anything between us, that we were just friends. I guess she saw something I didn't and… you know the rest."

"You…danced like that. For me." Matthew seemed to have a hard time comprehending.

" _If you're going crazy, just grab me and take me._

_I'd follow you down, down, down._

_Anywhere, anywhere…"_

"In the end, yeah, I did."

Gilbert was close enough to actually watch Matthew's pupils expand, much larger then than even this lighting required. His lips were parted as he turned back towards the stage.

A movement just beyond Matthew made Gilbert's eyes shift its focus, only to see a couple kissing each other intensely. Now, they _were_ in a darkened room, but it wasn't the right place for that much groping.

Gilbert's eyes immediately sought out others like them. There weren't many, not enough to draw the attention of a manager, but there were several couples—no, no, that's one was a group—that were acting like they were behind closed doors. Gilbert was all for putting on a show but this was uncomfortable and unnerving. _Shit_ , he thought.

To confirm his theory, Gilbert released Matthew's hand to trace the veins in his wrist. All Matthew did was shoot him a glare, the effect slightly lost because he licked his lips at the same time. But Gilbert had been listening and swore he heard someone cry out a little behind him. He stopped touching Matthew completely, even moved his chair away a little. Matthew frowned at him and Gilbert said, "Look around."

Matthew did and frowned a little. When he understood, his eyes widened and sounded horrified when he said, "Oh, my God."

Almost all of those affected by Matthew's emotions slowed down and their behavior went from soft-core porn to PG-13. Some even stopped all together and smiled shyly at their partner like they didn't know where that had come from. No one looked upset as far as Gilbert could tell except Matthew. He looked devastated and embarrassed. Gilbert motioned their server over and asked to close out their tab. He reached over and started to rub Matthew's back in soothing circles. Matthew tensed at the contact and Gilbert stopped. He started to pull away again when Matthew moved closer and hugged him.

"… _You're screwed up and brilliant,_

_You look like a million dollar man._

_So why is my heart broke?"_

* * *

The vocalist let the last cord die before smiling at the applause and said, "Thank you all. I really felt like everyone enjoyed the song, just from the energy in the room. We are going to take a short break before we do one last set for the evening. In the meantime, please enjoy the music provided by DJ Short."

Matthew was doing his best to keep his composure, but it took everything he had to take his card back from their server, calculate a tip, sign the bill, and hand it back. He stood as soon as it was out of his hand and Gilbert followed looking concerned. Gilbert offered his hand and he took it, grateful for the support. Matthew led them out into the parking lot at a fast pace, needing to get out of there as soon as possible. It occurred to him that he would have left at the same pace earlier, but for a much different reason. It was that thought that made him start shaking.

They got as far as the car when Gilbert stopped them and pulled Matthew into a tight hug. Matthew wanted to pull away and reject the comfort because he so didn't deserve it. But he also felt like he was falling apart and Gilbert was the only thing keeping him together. He compromised and didn't hug him back at first.

Then Gilbert said, "What can I do to help?"

Matthew hugged him then because it was exactly the right question and Gilbert had known to ask it. He clearly wasn't okay and him asking would have just made Matthew angry. But he asked how he could help so Matthew held him tight and shook his head because there was nothing to be done.

Matthew didn't know why he hadn't thought it was okay for him to go out. Yes, nothing had happened the night before but he had gone out with the _specific_ purpose of making their date a form of foreplay tonight. He should have known that anything he was feeling would affect the other people. He had worked to control himself, sure, but he still should have known it wouldn't be enough. This was so much worse than before for so many reasons.

Matthew not only should have known that his emotions would affect the crowd but also how the _nature_ of his emotions mattered. By infecting the humans with his desire he de facto took away their right to consent and that was something so disturbing that he shuddered and felt his eyes begin to burn from unshed tears. He began to feel nauseous because _oh, my God_ just didn't cover it. He not only took away their right to consent but also may have just left someone prey to sexual assault. He had no way of knowing that all those people wanted to be sexually involved with their companions.

Gilbert kissed the top of his head and said softly, "Talk to me, _Schätzchen_. Tell me what you're thinking."

"I'm a date-rape drug, Gil. I took away everyone's right to consent because they were under the influence of my emotions. I thought I was controlling myself but I should have known, Gil. I should have known. This is all my fault." Matthew was crying by the end, face hidden against Gilbert's jacket.

Gilbert held him closer and said, "No, _Liebling_ , it wasn't. We don't know how the whole thing works, remember? You were controlling yourself very well. I didn't know you were that effected until I looked at other people." Matthew let out a sob and Gilbert moved on quickly. "But last time you were very outwardly emotional. You, of all people, were yelling. You couldn't have known it was based on internal emotion rather than outward expression. Want to know something else?"

Matthew replied wetly but quiet, "What?"

"I looked around the room longer than you did. And you know what I noticed? I saw that only relatively few people out of that entire room were affected enough to act on it. I know your desire was only for something consensual, so maybe that translated to other people."

Matthew felt himself calm down as he listened to Gilbert and he stopped crying. He was deeply embarrassed but thankful that Gilbert was still talking. "But we don't know that."

"Birdie, no one knows, that's why we're doing a presentation on it. But isn't it plausible that the exact nature of your emotions are what transfer? People at the hockey game became increasingly angry but there were no fights that broke out in the stands. They were all upset about hockey. In my experience, I have found that if that much anger is in a room, it spills over to other things. But it didn't there."

Matthew rubbed at his face enough to clear it and pulled away a little to look the short distance up to Gilbert. "But if they were that in tune with my emotions, why didn't they all want you?" Matthew blushed a bit but didn't look away or take the question back.

Gilbert cupped his face and wiped away some of the tears he had missed. "You only want consensual sex and I only want you."

 _Holy shit,_ Matthew thought. _If I wasn't already in love with you, that would have done it. It isn't possible to fall more in love, right? God, I hope not._ What he said was, "Oh. Right."

Matthew didn't know what expression he was wearing but it made Gilbert smile a little and kiss him softly. Matthew was sure he looked a mess, so he didn't understand the gesture but he didn't complain either.

* * *

Gilbert drove them back to Matthew's house, a place he had to stop himself from referring to as home. His true home was long gone, destroyed well over a century ago and his brother's house was what passed for it today. At least that was on land that was previously his. The house was very much Matthew's home, yet Gilbert deep down still wanted to claim it as his, too.

Matthew was sitting beside him holding one of his hands as he gave directions. He had taken up on Gilbert's offer to drive them back once he had calmed. They had been talking briefly about how tonight changed how they were going to structure the information only to fall to thoughtful silence. Not even the radio was on, and that was okay. A lot had been said and seen during their night. They didn't need to talk now.

Gilbert was preoccupied with two things: concern and lust. He was still worried about Matthew because his fears were not unreasonable at all. While the explanations Gilbert had come up with were logical, he very much so doubted that Matthew wasn't going to go back to his original thought. The problem was that nothing was really _known_ , except for the fact that Nations' emotions effect their citizens with proximity. There was a big question mark over the entire issue and Gilbert knew how much Matthew cared about respect and people in general. There was no way he was going to leave this alone in his head.

As for his lust, Gilbert was mostly annoyed it was still hanging around. This was _so_ not the time. Yet he couldn't ignore how much Matthew must want him for the people around him to be so affected and that made him want Matthew all the more. Not to mention all the things they had said to each other or that, until about a half an hour ago, Gilbert had been steadily planning exactly what he was going to do to Matthew when they got back. But that was not going to happen now and Gilbert was more than fine with that so if those thoughts could just _fuck off_ that would be great, thanks.

His relationship with Matthew was about more than sex and he wouldn't do a damn thing to change that. He wasn't going to push him into doing something he wasn't ready for and he would rather make sure Matthew was happy than have sex. Even really spectacular sex. Gilbert was increasingly invested in their relationship emotionally and he was trying his hardest not to fuck this up. He was Matthew's first boyfriend; he had to make sure Matthew didn't regret dating him.

Gilbert was still floored by that fact. Clearly the rest of the world was blind and he was the luckiest bastard in the whole world. Gilbert certainly didn't have any good karma floating around in the universe so he was kind of waiting for some higher power to show up and say, _sorry, there was a mix up and Matthew wasn't meant for you._

Gilbert pulled up to the house and parked. Matthew let go of his hand and opened the door to find two polar bears waiting for him. Gilbert was similarly greeted by Gilbird and just seeing the little puff of yellow made him feel better.

"Hey, Gilbird. Missed you, too, buddy."

Gilbird chirped at him and settled into his hair just long enough to make it a complete mess before zooming off to places unknown. By the time Gilbert made it into the house, Matthew was already there with Maple in his arms sleeping and Kumajiro wandering off to do his own thing. Matthew turned at the sound of the door closing and then tried very hard not to laugh at Gilbert's hair.

"Gilbird was there just long enough to mess it up. Do I even want to see what I look like right now?"

"Probably not," Matthew said as he turned to put Maple in her bed (though she often ignores it and falls asleep anywhere). "It doesn't look bad. Just less date night and more happy hour."

"Oh, well as long as it doesn't look _awful_ …" Gilbert smiled.

Matthew smiled and walked over to him. "It would take a lot more than a messy hairdo to make you unattractive, Gil."

"I aim to please." Gilbert kissed him lightly before saying. "I had a great time tonight. I'm sorry it went sour but now at least we know what to look for."

"Me too." Matthew's smile faded to something sad for a second before he looked at the ground like he was…shy. Gilbert was a little confused because he thought on some level that Matthew wouldn't feel the need to be shy around him anymore after tonight. He guessed it really did just depend on the topic. "Gil, I…I really don't feel up to sex tonight."

"I figured you wouldn't and that's more than fine. I don't want you to feel like you have to do anything with me that makes you uncomfortable, okay? You're not the only one who only does consensual sex."

"Thanks. But I-I would really like it if you still slept with me, if you wanted to." Matthew was biting his lip and still not looking at Gilbert.

 _Oh_. "I would like that, too."

Matthew looked up in surprise and smiled wide at him. "Really?"

"Of course, _Schätzchen_. Like I would turn down something that lets me stay close to you."

They got ready for bed separately and Gilbert felt a little like he was having an out of body experience. It was rare that he ever slept with someone. It was something he considered very intimate and he had only slept next to a handful of people voluntarily. Matthew didn't know that but Gilbert did and still he had agreed without hesitation. A stray thought occurred: _I never would have done that for Specs._

It was enough to make him freeze halfway through raising his arms up to put on a shirt he was using for pajamas because it was true, almost glaringly obvious in fact. What he felt for Matthew was nothing like what he had felt for Roderich. That was hopeless longing and what boiled down to a sense of duty, which Gilbert could now admit to himself was messed up. This was easy but hard at the same time and worrying all at once because Matthew was starting to mean more to him than nearly any other person in his life after just a few weeks. That was terrifying but he wanted more and he never wanted it to stop. This felt like _belonging_. Just being around Matthew made Gilbert warm and touching him burned but in the best way possible, like if the flames were to consume him it would be the best way to go. It felt like—

_No!_

_Yes._

It felt like maybe Gilbert should talk to someone like his brother before he thought any harder about this.

Gilbert finished getting ready for bed quickly after that, trying desperately to outrun the thought he almost let form. He knocked on Matthew's bedroom door and heard a soft _come in_. He opened to the door to find Matthew dressed like he was, in boxers and a T-shirt, though their colors differed (black on black for Gilbert and blue and white for Matthew). He was pulling back the blankets but turned a little to greet Gilbert with a shy but happy smile in greeting.

"Hey, Gil. Could you hit the lights while you're by the door?"

"Sure." Gilbert searched the wall for the switch and flicked it down. The moment the lights out, Gilbert got a sense of nerves. He fought them off as he walked around to the other side of the bed, only stubbing his toe once in the dark. He slid under the covers then stared up at the ceiling for a minute. Then he got over himself because Matthew had asked him to be here and said, "I can't see yet but I would really like it if you were closer."

He heard Matthew sigh and they moved towards each other. Matthew sat up a little and leaned down to kiss him. It was a good, slow kiss and Gilbert used a hand to brush Matthew's hair away. Gilbert felt Matthew's smile as he pulled away and said, "Goodnight, angel."

Gilbert felt Matthew lay down and turn away from him. He moved closer and put an am over his side to pull them closer. It wasn't quite spooning because Gilbert still needed to breathe and Matthew's hair would have made that an issue and he was keeping his hips well away from Matthew out of courtesy, but it was close. Gilbert leaned up to kiss the side of Matthew's neck and said, "Goodnight, _Liebling._ "

He laid back down and started to go to sleep, content, when he heard Matthew ask a few minutes later, "What do those words mean, Gil? The ones you call me, I mean."

" _Schätzchen_ means 'little treasure.'"

"I'm not exactly little, Gil."

"I know, Birdie, but think of it kind of as a substitute for calling you 'baby' in English. I could call you the equivalent of 'little mouse' if you prefer. That is a common enough endearment in German."

"No, no. 'Little treasure' is just fine. What about the other one?"

Gilbert hesitated then said, " _Liebling_ means 'darling.'"

"Oh, okay. 'Night."

"'Night, little treasure."

"Gil!"

They both laughed and settled for the night, leaving Gilbert off the hook for explaining the other translation of _Liebling_. Outright telling Matthew that it meant "beloved" made everything a little too real. He fell asleep with his boyfriend in his arms and a smile on his face. That was good enough for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to state explicitly that Matthew is grey-asexual, homoromantic. I started writing this story before I knew asexuality was a thing, so it might not be obvious in the text. He's rarely attracted to people, but he is attracted to Gilbert and clearly sex-positive from this chapter, so it doesn't effect their relationship as much as it does in a different story I'm writing.


	27. Chapter 26: Claiming

Matthew woke up, his internal clock still not quite understanding what vacation meant. He blinked his eyes open to find the room softly lit by the just-passed dawn. The days were getting shorter rapidly and Matthew could almost feel the chill of winter already starting to settle into his bones. It wasn't an unpleasant sensation, just different, and he had dealt with it every year so it wasn't a surprise.

His eyes focused to find Gilbert still asleep beside him. They had shifted during the night so that Gilbert was now on his back with Matthew draped over one of his sides. Matthew noted he had somehow wedged one of legs between Gilbert's and that he had an arm wrapped around his torso. Gilbert had an arm wrapped around him, hand sitting quite low on his back. This was going to be interesting to get out of without waking Gilbert.

Matthew sat up a little experimentally, eyes shooting to Gilbert's face as he sighed a little, still asleep. Matthew was distracted for a moment because Gilbert looked as peaceful as he had ever seen him, face slack and lips slightly parted. It was rare to see him like this. He was usually so expressive or at least he seemed that way to Matthew. He had the distant thought, _this is the man I'm in love with_. It still scared him, but he smiled anyway. Gilbert was beautiful, his boyfriend, and in his bed. He couldn't put much energy in being afraid when he was too busy being awed.

He began to pull away slowly only to hear Gilbert inhale sharply and have his arm tense suddenly. Matthew hadn't been expecting resistance and he barely was able to stop himself from falling back down. As it was, he was half kneeling over Gilbert, hands on either side of him. His gaze went to Gilbert's face to see his eyes in slits and his mouth tilted in a sleepy smirk.

Voice rough with sleep, Gilbert said, "Where do you think you're going?"

Well, damn if that wasn't enticing. Matthew fought his arousal to say, "I was going to get dressed and start breakfast."

Gilbert frowned at him a little, still not quite awake. "What time is it?"

"Early. Around 8."

Gilbert groaned a little, frowning harder. "Too early. Come back down here." Matthew felt Gilbert's hand start to pull him down.

Matthew wasn't exactly protesting but he wasn't going to go so easily. "You don't want pancakes?"

"I can have pancakes later. Want you now." Gilbert opened his eyes wider and propped himself up on one elbow, going to Matthew since he wasn't coming to him.

"I have morning breath."

"Don't care." Gilbert brushed Matthew's lips with his own, more a tease than and actual kiss. "Are you saying no?"

Matthew breathed out, "No, I'm not." Gilbert kissed him. While the taste was a little sour, it was still Gilbert and Matthew had yet to find a way to resist him. He relaxed into the lazy kiss, coming down to lay against Gilbert who had moved both hands to his waist. It was Matthew who deepened the kiss, despite his reservations, using one hand to hold himself up while the other fisted Gilbert's shirt, feeling the cross-shaped medal Gilbert always wore underneath. He felt Gilbert tense against him. Then they were moving and Gilbert was above him. Matthew gasped and ran both hands through Gilbert's hair to signal his approval.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, movements still lazy with the edge of sleep. Then Gilbert pulled back with a question in his eyes. He looked awake and more than a little wrecked. Matthew felt one of his hands reach under his shirt to trace the skin right above his boxers. He felt his muscles jump involuntarily and he gasped a little but nodded. Gilbert started kissing him again, still as slow as before, as he started to raise Matthew's shirt little by little. He arched his back a bit to help and…

His cell phone rang, loud and jarring in the quiet of the room.

They both looked at the phone, otherwise frozen. It was Matthew who said, "You've _got_ to be kidding me."

Gilbert chuckled a little and started using one hand to explore the shape of Matthew's torso that he had managed to expose. He leaned into Matthew's ear and whispered, "You could just ignore it. They can leave a message."

Matthew shivered and Gilbert bit his earlobe, further encouragement to ignore the outside world. But… "Gil, no one calls me this early unless it's an emergency. I can't not answer."

Gilbert sighed but rolled over to let Matthew move towards the phone. Matthew sat up and reached for the phone, frowning when he saw Berwald's name on the screen. "Hello?"

"'ello, Ma'hew?"

"Yes? Is something wrong, Berwald?" Matthew heard Gilbert moving behind him but thought nothing of it.

"No, I jus' wanted to talk about your 'quest for a special 'eport."

"Oh! Sorry, I just didn't expect you to call today. It's a bit early here, that's all."

"It says 'ere tha' I could call after 7:30 Easter' Standar' time. 'm sorry if it's too early."

Matthew cursed himself for putting down such an early time, despite the fact he was usually up and about by now. "No need to apologize, it was my mistake. What did you want to kNOW!?" Gilbert chose that moment to grip his waist and bit down where his neck met his shoulder.

"Ma'hew?"

"I'm sorry, Berwald. One second, please." Matthew turned towards Gilbert. "What the hell, Gil?"

Gilbert ginned unrepentantly. "What? You looked lonely."

Matthew frowned as best as he could but he really wasn't angry. He managed to say, "If you can't keep your hands to yourself, go away."

"Okay." Gilbert gave him a quick kiss before climbing out of the bed and heading towards the door. Matthew didn't realize he was staring until Gilbert turned to look at him and said, "Weren't you talking to Berwald?"

"Shit." Matthew turned back to the phone and moved his hand to say, "Sorry about that. What were you saying?"

There was a moment of silence then Berwald said, "Will Gil'ert be stayin' wi' you?"

Matthew raised his eyebrows. "Ludwig already told you he would be coming?"

" _Ja_. You a'so listed 'im as co-author."

He sighed. "Let me ask him." Matthew stood up and heard the shower start. He walked to the bathroom and knocked on the door before shouting, "Gil, do you want to stay in my room at the summit?"

The door opened to Gilbert only wearing his boxers and his necklace. Matthew couldn't help but flick his eyes down Gilbert's body and think, _why haven't I jumped on him, again?_ Gilbert raised his eyebrows at him and said, "Sure, if you want me to keep sleeping with you."

Matthew met Gilbert's eyes and then turned away saying, "Yes, he'll be staying with me. What else did you want to know?"

* * *

By the time Gilbert was dressed, Matthew had just gotten off the phone with Berwald and into the shower. He wasn't sure what they had to talk about since there was still a lot they had to hammer out for their presentation, but he wasn't complaining. This meant he had time to call Ludwig for a much needed pep-talk. Of course, since Ludwig wasn't a heart-to-heart kind of guy (and neither was Gilbert really, must be a family trait), this was going to be interesting. As it was, he had to psych himself up for the call a bit before actually dialing.

Ludwig answered with his usual promptness, though he sounded very confused when he said, "Hello?"

"Hey, West. Do you have a minute?"

"Gilbert?"

"Who else?"

A beat of silence, then, "You did not block your number this time. You are in the States?"

And now this was an interrogation. Great. "I'm in Canada. I've been staying with Matthew."

"Berwald sent me an email that your housing was taking care of for the summit as well…"

"Christ, Berwald works fast. Mattie just got off the phone."

"Well, I had asked him to find a room for you earlier."

Gilbert sighed. "Look, West, I get that you have questions and I'm willing to answer them but I was actually calling because I need your help with something. If you could just ask what you want to know instead of trying to trick information out of me, that would be great. I'm your brother, not a suspect."

"Most people I know would say you are, in fact, suspect."

There was a moment of silence when Gilbert said, shocked, "Was that a joke? From you?"

"I have a sense of humor."

"I love you, baby brother, but you really don't." Gilbert laughed, feeling much better about this conversation, and he wondered if Ludwig had done that on purpose. If he had, he wondered what had happened in his absence to make Ludwig more…personable.

"You sound well. Are you?"

"Yeah, West. I am. I'm a little too good, actually. That's why I calling."

"I do not understand. You have a problem with feeling too good?"

"It sounds strange when you say it like that but yes."

"I gather this has something to do with Canada."

"Matthew, yes. It has everything to do with him."

"You are sleeping him?"

"Only in the most literal sense. We're dating but we haven't had sex yet."

Ludwig was silent and Gilbert could almost feel his astonishment through the phone. Ludwig knew him better than anyone, though Alistair was a close second. "Gilbert."

"I know."

" _Gilbert!"_

"I _know_ , Ludwig. Why do you think I'm calling you?"

He heard Ludwig mumble some curses and something about needing a beer before, "Does he know about Roderich?"

"He knows everything, West. Almost everything about me except for the Wall."

"Well, fuck."

"Well put."

"Can you explain to me why this is a problem?"

"Because it's so soon! I've been here less than three weeks and he has suddenly become one of the most important people in my life. How am I supposed to deal with that, West? I've never felt this way about someone. What I felt for Roderich never even came _close_ to this. I thought you of all people would understand why this—"

"Gil?"

Gilbert cut himself off and looked over to find Matthew at the bottom of the steps and coming closer. He winced and tilted the phone away from his mouth. Accent heavier than usual, he said, "Sorry, Birdie. What's up?"

"Nothing, I'm just going to start breakfast. You okay, angel?"

" _Ja_ , I'm just talking to Ludwig."

Matthew smiled. "I'd figured. The angry German gave it away." Matthew kissed him briefly before walking past him to the cabinet. "Have fun, be nice."

"I'll try." Gilbert walked out of the dinette area and towards the living room. He turned the phone back to his ear to hear his brother falling apart with laughter on the other end. "What the hell is so funny?"

It took a moment for him to calm down, but Ludwig eventually managed an incredulous, "'Angel?"

"Fuck off, 'Luddy.'"

"Sorry, sorry."

"You're not sorry."

"You are absolutely right. That was the funniest thing I have heard in weeks."

Gilbert rolled his eyes but he wasn't actually upset. His brother didn't laugh much, so he wasn't going to complain a lot. He waited for Ludwig to stop laughing and said, "Do you actually want to know something else or can we move on?"

Ludwig went quiet for a minute before saying, "Gilbert, you have to understand. It was very…disconcerting to have you disappear like that."

"Aww, were you worried about your big brother?"

"This is not a joke, Gilbert! How would you have felt if I disappeared after Feliciano hurt me like Roderich did you? Would you not have worried?"

Ludwig sounded angry, but Gilbert could hear the undertone of hurt. He had actually upset his brother, which just wasn't done in Gilbert's book. He felt awful and sounded apologetic as he said, "West, look, I'm sorry that I worried you, really I am. I just felt a little claustrophobic at home and I wasn't ready to talk about anything. Then being here was just so easy that it made it easy to forget at moments what I had left behind and that was exactly what I needed then."

Ludwig sighed and said, "East, if you would have said so at the beginning, I would have understood. It just took you so long to let me know anything and that was not like you."

Gilbert winced. "Yeah, sorry about that, too. It was actually Mattie who encouraged me to call you the first time."

"Then I owe him my thanks." Ludwig cleared his throat and continued with, "Have you two been dating long?"

"No, just since Friday. I knew I was attracted to him from the start but I didn't want him to just be someone I used to get over Roderich. Birdie's far too good for that and I wanted to get to know him. After I did, it became harder to ignore what I felt, if that makes sense."

"Bir—no, never mind. So he is not your...what is that word? Rebound?"

"No, he really isn't. I…don't know how to describe this. Okay, that's a lie. I do but it doesn't make sense and it is too fucking scary to even look at."

"You never were a coward, brother. Now is not the time to start."

"That's actually what I need your help with?"

"Excuse me? How could _I_ possibly help?" Ludwig was a surprised as Gilbert had ever heard him. Their conversation had been remarkably emotional by their standards and this may be over Ludwig's line. Still, he had to ask.

"What did it feel like when you met Feliciano?" There was a long stretch of silence then Gilbert heard background noises from the other line that sounded a lot like his brother getting a drink. Huh.

"Are you seriously asking this? You were there for most of it."

"Yes, I am serious. I saw that some things were different, like the way you worried about him or let him keep coming back after you kicked him out for 'sneaking into your bed—'"

"We only slept, Gilbert, and he did do it after I'm was asleep!"

"Says the lightest sleeper in the world. Right. Anyway, I could tell things were different but we never actually talked about it. He just became part of the family for me. So, what did it _feel_ like?"

"I cannot believe we are having this conversation." Gilbert heard Ludwig swallow heavily.

"Whiskey?"

"Tequila."

Gilbert cringed because he wasn't fond of the taste of gasoline and Ludwig only resorted to it when he was out of his depth.

Ludwig took another shot, sighed then said, "Feliciano, after I got past how frustrating and infuriating he was, felt like coming home. He felt like light and peace and… mine. He felt like my home."

Fuck. Gilbert chuckled nervously, sitting heavily on the couch. "That was very poetic, West."

"Do not fucking tease me right now, Gilbert."

"I'm sorry, I was deflecting because—" He cut himself off, though Ludwig got the message anyway.

"That is what Matthew is to you." It was a statement, but Gilbert answered it anyway.

Quietly, like he was afraid volume would make it scarier, Gilbert said, "Yes."

"Gilbert, I need you to listen to me very carefully right now. I do not want you to make the same mistake I did, so pay attention."

Gilbert laughed, edge of hysteria in his voice because this wasn't what he expected and how exactly did his brother make a mistake? He and Feliciano had been together for decades.

"Do you know when I first felt like this, even if I refused to acknowledge it at the time?"

"No, when?"

"1931."

To say Gilbert was surprised was an understatement. He didn't think they had gotten together until the Second World War. "But you…"

"Yes. It was after we had spent a horribly long week together when Feliciano had refused to leave and I was making those fucking cuckoo clocks. We had spent maybe a month together out of the years we had met, but I recognized him almost from the very beginning of what he meant to me. I just pushed him away until I was comfortable with it and that was one of the stupidest things I have ever done outside of orders. Time did nothing to lessen the feeling and I wasted years, Gilbert. Damn near a decade." Ludwig took another two shots, like he needed to be distracted from the memory.

"…Ludwig, I needed you to get the 1813 out of storage and cleaned for me."

"Understood. Do you need anything else?"

"No, I…I think I have to go do something."

"I will talk to you tomorrow about the reports. I look forward to speaking to Matthew at the summit."

"I'll pass it on. Say hi to Feli for me."

They hung up and Gilbert lingered in the living room for a moment. The sounds of puttering around in the kitchen, the now familiar smell of pancakes, the near constant feeling of contentment…These things were all associated with the man humming lightly to himself in the other room. Gilbert was approaching 800 years old, a fact he was able to ignore until the weight of his years made his bones heavy with it in an off moment. He knew a good thing when he saw it and this was great. While it certainly would have helped the Trojans, he knew not to look a gift horse in the mouth. He was done checking this one's teeth.

A feeling of peace filled him with the decision. He stood and walked into the kitchen, smiling in response to Matthew's greeting. Matthew felt like his home, had given him permission to claim him as his. All he had to do was follow through.

* * *

"Do you want to watch another one?"

Matthew moved his head to look up at Gilbert when he asked the question. They were watching more _Firefly_ at Gilbert's suggestion and now the credits of their first episode had started appearing on screen. Matthew had been comfortably resting his head on Gilbert's shoulder, half curled up on the couch with Gilbert's arm wrapped around his waist. It had only been an hour or so since they had eaten breakfast, so there was still a lot of the day left. It was his last day of vacation, but he didn't really feel like leaving the house to do anything. They would have to get down to work tomorrow, so a lazy day felt about his speed.

Gilbert gave him a considering look that made Matthew's pulse jump, then shook his head and said, "No, I'm good for now." He raised the remote to turn off the television, the sudden silence deafening and heavy. Gilbert's arm tightened around him and Matthew knew where this was going. He thought, _fucking finally._ He hadn't exactly been waiting a long time, but the light had been green for them for a while and circumstance kept getting in the way. It wouldn't this time.

Matthew knew what he was supposed to say here. "Well, what do you want to do?"

Gilbert kissed him hard and hot. Matthew was ready for it, their lips moving together in a slow dance that sped gradually. When Matthew parted his mouth to tease at the part in Gilbert's lips, he was met halfway. Matthew smiled a little, moving his tongue away knowing Gilbert's would follow the movement. Gilbert's arm tightened on him again and his other hand gripped the back of Matthew's head to pull them closer. It wasn't exactly comfortable, so Matthew swung a leg over Gilbert's lap, straddling him without breaking the kiss.

The new angle worked for all involved. Matthew leaned over Gilbert and pressed him back into the couch, one hand on his shoulder and the other gripping the back of the couch. Gilbert's moved first to clutch at Matthew's hips then, after Matthew had managed to roll their burgeoning erections together despite Gilbert's grip, shifted to cup his ass. Matthew gasped and made that high needy sound that he could tell Gilbert loved.

Matthew pulled away to look down at Gilbert. Breathing heavily, he moved a hand to touch Gilbert's mouth, pulling his bottom lip down a little with his thumb. Gilbert nipped at him and Matthew smiled. He said, "Tell me what you want, angel."

Gilbert's eyes snapped into focus and he said, voice rough, "I want to fuck you. May I?"

"Yes."

The reaction was instantaneous. Gilbert surged up to kiss him and tightened his grip as he stood with ease. Matthew made that sound again and wrapped his legs around him without thinking. He was breathless as Gilbert carried him upstairs to his bedroom. It was a good thing Gilbert seemed to have a good handle on things because Matthew lost all sense of awareness for anything else. If he had been moving them, lamps would have been knocked over and walls run into. But Gilbert managed to carry him smoothly through the living room and up the stairs, showing no sign of exertion. Fuck if that wasn't hot.

Matthew heard the sound of a door closing then found himself laying on his bed with Gilbert on top of him. Grateful for the leverage, Matthew rolled his hips, hoping to get the message across that they could be speeding this up. Gilbert pulled away instead.

Matthew made a protesting noise and followed the movement only to have Gilbert put a hand to his chest and force him back down. He was suddenly very okay with staying right where he was.

That is, until Gilbert straightened completely and pulled his shirt over his head. Matthew looked his fill, taking in the hard ridges of muscle and the soft edges of scars, all of it illuminated in muted sunlight though the medal was strangely missing. He bit his lip and had the thought, _I can touch him now_. He was sitting up before the thought was even finished and Gilbert let him.

Matthew moved so that he was kneeling on the bed with Gilbert standing beside it. His hands moved to learn if Gilbert felt as good as he looked (answer: hell yes) and he kissed him. He felt more than heard Gilbert's breath hitch when he passed a hand over his nipple. Matthew smirked and moved to kiss his way down Gilbert's neck. It wasn't hard to find out that he was sensitive at his pulse point just below his jaw and collar bone. Gilbert gipped his hips hard when he sucked a mark over one and actually shivered when kissed the last. Pleased, Matthew scraped his teeth over the spot and earned a groan in response. Matthew pulled away just far enough for Gilbert to feel his breath as he asked, "Can you still feel over your scars?"

"A little."

Matthew moved until his mouth was hovering over the molted scar that was white with age and frighteningly close to Gilbert's heart. Slowly, reverently, he kissed along it, learning the shape of the injury that almost took Gilbert from him before they had even met. He sat back on his heels and stilled his hands to rest on Gilbert's hips where his jeans met skin.

" _Schätzchen_ …" Gilbert sounded surprised, like he hadn't expected Matthew to pay attention to the area or maybe that he was surprised at the care Matthew showed.

With one last kiss, Matthew moved away a little, shifting lower as he rolled his eyes up to meet Gilbert's. He saw that Gilbert's mouth was red and swollen and that his eyes were dark and wide. When their eyes met, Matthew watched with fascination as the flush that had started on Gilbert's face started to work its way down his neck. Possessiveness filled him and he bit out, "No one's allowed to hurt you again."

Still watching, Matthew lightly ran his lips over Gilbert's nipple, one hand coming up to mirror to touch on the other side. He was able to see pleasure flash over Gilbert's face before he closed his eyes and focused on the task at hand. He didn't get very far.

The moment Matthew began to suck Gilbert pulled him away and said, "Come here." He pulled him up to a hard, deep kiss that had so much intent behind it that Matthew forgot what he was doing before. Then Gilbert stopped them to say, "You're wearing too much."

Gilbert started pulling up his shirt before Matthew really registered the words, helpless to do anything but raise his arms. Gilbert flung the shirt somewhere before picking Matthew up just enough so he straightened his legs and laid him back down. Gilbert was hovering over him, kneeling between Matthew's legs and looking down at the newly revealed skin. Gilbert met Matthew's eyes and smirked before moving to kiss his neck. He said, "Oh, Mattie, the things I want to do to you…"

"Tell me. _Show_ me."

Gilbert laughed darkly before closing his mouth unerringly against the sensitive spot on Matthew's neck. He sucked at it hard and Matthew pulled him down so they were flush against each other. Gilbert bit him and Matthew dug his nails into his back and let out a cry. Gilbert laughed again and pulled away to inspect the red spot which promised to bruise. Matthew felt him kiss the spot softly before saying, "Oh, I will. But you need to be patient."

"And if I'm not?" Matthew said it as half as a challenge, half because he really wasn't feeling patient right then.

"Then I'll just make you wait longer."

"Gil!"

"Shh, _Liebling_ , I'm going to take care of you." Gilbert kissed him briefly on the lips before moving to whisper in his ear, "I'm going to fuck you so hard you only remember the word 'please' and my name. Then I'm going to fuck you again. You'll come so many times you're covered with it and when you think you can't come anymore, I'll make you do it again."

Matthew inhaled sharply and shuddered, more turned on than he could ever recall. To be fair, he wasn't doing a whole lot of thinking at this point but still.

He didn't protest when Gilbert pulled away. When nothing happened, Matthew looked up at him. Gilbert then asked, "What's your safeword?"

"Châteauguay."

"Are you safewording right now?"

"No." Matthew shook his head, out of breath before they had even done anything. He swallowed and said, "What's yours?"

"Grunwald. I'm not safewording right now."

"Okay." Matthew sat up to kiss Gilbert before saying, "Yes. Yes to everything."

Gilbert pressed him back into the bed and kissed him like he was trying to devour him. Matthew kissed him back and clutched at him, trying to get across how _very much_ he approved. Matthew's hands were tangled in Gilbert's hair by the time Gilbert started to work his way down his body. Matthew didn't know if it had just been too long, if it was because of Gilbert, or maybe the fact that Gilbert meant so much to him, but he was beyond sensitive. Every kiss and touch, even if it was a light as a brush of fingers, sent a jolt of pleasure through him. He was usually very vocal but there was a line. There was still enough of him conscious of it that made him aware that it was a little embarrassing. So he held back the sounds that threated to escape his throat to the best of his ability. He was moderately successful until Gilbert scraped his teeth over one of his nipples and he was only able to bite off his cry halfway through. He moved one hand to cover his mouth and Gilbert was back in his face before he was able to blink.

"Oh no, _Liebling_. I want to hear you. I want to hear every." Gilbert moved his hand to above his head, pressing down. "Single." Gilbert rolled their hips together and Matthew gasped at the friction, almost too much in the confines of his jeans. "Sound." Gilbert bit his lip and Matthew made a small sound of surrender. "Fuck, you're gorgeous. Let's get you out of these pants."

" _God_ , yes."

"I go by Gilbert, but I appreciate your approval."

Matthew opened his eyes to look at Gilbert, not believing what he just heard. Gilbert grinned at him, wide and cute. Matthew laughed and a tension he didn't know he had eased. He was still laughing when Gilbert started to crawl backwards, mouth moving along the lines of his body. Then Gilbert resumed teasing his nipples and the laugh turned into a surprised moan, his back arching into the touch.

Gilbert moved on once after Matthew thought he had properly made a fool of himself. One hand trailed down to Matthew's belt, mouth following slowly behind. Matthew gasped when Gilbert dipped his tongue into his navel, muscles jumping at the strange sensation. Gilbert's hands slowly began to undo the strip of leather and he sucked a mark into the V of Matthew's hips. It hurt a little, but in the best way and Matthew rewarded the effort with a sound.

Then Gilbert kneeled to really get down to divesting Matthew of his pants and, mouth no long occupied with other things, began talking. "You're so fucking responsive, Mattie. You have no idea how hot that is. And I can tell you're not faking it. Has it been a long time since anyone touched you, _Schätzchen_? Are you always this or is it just for me?"

Matthew shivered as Gilbert unbuttoned his pants and pulled the zipper down. He sighed in relief as the pressure on his erection lessened and managed to say, "Just…you."

Gilbert stood to pull the jeans down like he had all the time in the world, hands placed at the waistband to touch his skin as it was revealed. Matthew propped himself up on his elbows to watch Gilbert watch him. His boxers were still in place, his dick trapped along his thigh and leaking enough to leave an obvious wet spot in the fabric. He was starting to sweat, too worked up too soon. Gilbert looked down at him, eyes never staying in one place long like he couldn't decide what to focus on. When Matthew's pants were completely off, Gilbert said, voice low, "That's really good to hear, Birdie."

Matthew watched as Gilbert's hands went to his own belt and started undoing it. Over the slither of the belt, Gilbert continued, "You know I'm going make you feel so good, right? There's so many things I want to do for you. One day I'll do a private dance show just for you so you can watch me move as long as you like." Matthew's eyes went hazy as he imagined it, watching Gilbert strip for him, and mewled at the thought. Gilbert smiled and dropped the belt on the floor, hands moving to the catch of his pants. "You seem open to the idea."

"No fucking shit."

Gilbert laughed a bit. "Such language, Matthew. I'm surprised." Matthew wanted to say more but he really didn't want to make this take any longer. His dick was getting painful in its neglect and he really, _really_ wanted Gilbert to lose his pants. He bit his lip to stay quiet and watched as Gilbert bent over. He straightened and stepped out of his pants. Matthew's eyes went immediately to his (still there, dammit) boxers, the black fabric managing partially mask just how much this was effecting Gilbert. But Matthew was looking hard and he could tell. Meanwhile, Gilbert was still talking, now moving to kneel over him again. "I guess you just really like the thought. So you'll probably go for my plan to eventually ride your cock until I come all over you or fucking you from behind while you watch in a mirror."

"Gil-!" Gilbert kissed him, cutting off anything he was going to say which was probably for the best. As it was, Matthew was real close to that level of arousal when begging was starting to look like a viable option and was about one suggestion away to losing control and just touching himself to relieve some of the tension. Even still, his movements were frantic as he pulled them together, reveling in the feeling of skin-on-skin. Matthew rolled them over and came to kneel above him. Straddling Gilbert's hips, his hands planted on either side of his head, and Matthew was far enough from him to see him clearly. Gilbert looked smug which would have pissed Matthew off if he didn't look completely wrecked, too. There was only the thinnest edge of red to his eyes and he was breathing like he had finished a 5k. His flush reached his chest, all the more apparent in the contrast between his pale skin and the dark red of the comforter. Gilbert's hands were roaming and Matthew had to say something.

"Can I just reiterate how much I would really like it if you would fuck me? Preferably soon." Matthew rolled his hips backward a bit to prove his point. It made Gilbert shudder but it also made Matthew whimper a little because they were _so close_. Why exactly were they still wearing clothes?

"I think I got the picture." Gilbert smirked and rubbed his dick against Matthew's ass as he scraped a nail over one of his nipples. The sound Matthew let out made him sound like he was getting paid for this and Gilbert's smirk deepened. Not one to be outdone, Matthew sat up and reached to grab Gilbert through the cotton. Gilbert gasped and his eyes fluttered shut when Matthew squeezed him lightly then stroked him. Matthew wasn't unaffected because he was suddenly very aware that soon enough the hot, very hard dick in his hand was going to be (hopefully) pounding into him and he suddenly couldn't quite get enough breath at once.

Matthew smirked and asked as sweetly as he could, "Why are we still wearing clothes then?"

"Well, _you're_ still in your underwear because you flipped us over. That's where I was heading next but then you got impatient." Gilbert grabbed Matthew's hand and _moved_. Suddenly, Matthew found himself looking up at him again with his hand to his side, the wrist still in a tight but not painful grip. Gilbert was pressed to him and said in his ear, "Not that I really mind that you're impatient. It means I'm doing this right. But I would really like to get you naked and make you come now, if that's all right."

Matthew was just on the safe side of hyperventilating and started nodding continuously. He managed to say, "That sounds good."

Gilbert paused and then kissed Matthew's cheek softly. He said, "Breathe, _Liebling_."

Gilbert began slowly moving down Matthew's body and Matthew worked to slow his breathing. Gilbert kept talking, using kisses like punctuation. "God, I can't wait to see you come. I bet you get utterly lost in it. Just hearing you was hot enough. Fuck, do you realize how sweet you sound when you—"

"Wait, what?" Matthew sat up on his elbows to look down at Gilbert who froze with his mouth just centimeters shy of his boxers. "When did you-?"

Gilbert looked confused and sat back on his heels. Then he winced and said, "I take it you didn't mean for me to hear you on Friday? Shit, Mattie, I'm sorry."

Matthew's face heated and he remembered how much louder he had been than he had planned. "It's not your fault, Gil. I was, uh, a little more vocal than I wanted to be. I had kinda hoped that you were asleep since you didn't say anything…?"

"I was reading with the door open down the hall when I heard something. I knocked on your door to see if it was you but it became clear enough that you were busy. I thought you had heard me and when you just got louder, I thought it was on purpose. Then we had that talk yesterday and—"

Matthew sat up completely and lightly touched Gilbert's lips. He smiled at him shyly and said, "It's okay, angel. You just caught me off guard. Happy you liked what heard, I guess."

Gilbert grabbed Matthew's hand on his lips and turned it so he could kiss the pulse in his wrist. He started to lean in to Matthew and said, "Of course I did. I got hard so fast I was dizzy. Knowing that you were getting off on the _thought_ of me and were touching yourself just on the other side of the door was amazing. Do you want to know the best part was?"

Gilbert was right in front of him. Their eyes met and Matthew saw just how intent Gilbert's were, how focused. His eyes flicked to Gilbert's mouth as he said, "What?"

"You cried _my_ name when you came." Gilbert kissed him hard, driving Matthew back towards the mattress. They made out for several moments, getting back to how they felt before the misunderstanding came to light. It didn't take long, especially when Matthew started to leave another mark on Gilbert's neck and Gilbert started talking again.

"I had to get off after that and it was so fucking _easy_ , Mattie. All I had to think about was you working yourself to orgasm. Were you playing with your nipples that I know are oh so sensitive?" The hand Matthew had in Gilbert's hair gripped him harder.

"Were you stroking yourself or fucking your fist?" Matthew bit him and Gilbert grunted. Gilbert's hands tightened on his hips hard enough that he was sure it was going to leave a mark. The knowledge just drove Matthew closer to the edge.

"Did you finger yourself and pretend it was me doing it?" Matthew made a helpless sound and rolled his hips against Gilbert, desperate for friction. Matthew going to snap if Gilbert said anything else. But Gilbert didn't know that and he was relentless.

"Did you fuck yourself on a toy and pretend it was my cock in your—mphf." Matthew pulled Gilbert's hair hard enough to move his head and smashed their mouths together. Gilbert's mouth had to be stopped. It would have been really embarrassing if Matthew came before Gilbert actually touched him. As it was, he was ready to go off like a bottle rocket.

Matthew pulled Gilbert away by his hair and said, "Get naked and fuck me. Right now. Either that or make me come because I need to, Gil. I _really fucking_ need to."

Gilbert was breathing heavily but seemed to be fully in control as he gave Matthew a considering look. Then he smirked and Matthew felt a thrill go through his body. That smirk meant he had thought of something to drive Matthew crazy and that he fully intended to follow through on it. It made Matthew a little nervous. Even knowing he would probably regret it, he asked, "What's that look for?"

Gilbert kiss him lightly on the lips then moved away, hands on the elastic band of Matthew's boxers. Matthew let his hand fall away from Gilbert's hair and gripped the cover instead, anticipation making him tense. Gilbert pulled the band down a little and kissed Matthew's hip before saying, "I just thought it might be fun to tie you to the bed one day and see if I could get you to come just from talking to you."

Fuck. Matthew could imagine exactly what that would feel like: his arms and legs immobile, body on display; Gilbert saying _filthy_ things in his ear that would so easy to visualize; being unable to get any friction at all on his cock; maybe Gilbert would do _almost_ touches where Matthew could feel how close he was but they would never actually make contact; and if he was blindfolded too…

Matthew made a short, high sound that was too desperate to be a whimper. It was needy as hell but he was beyond caring because he was _so ready_. If Gilbert managed to brush against him, he would go off and he was ready to beg for even the slightest touch. Matthew lifted his hips in hope that Gilbert would get his underwear down faster.

Gilbert pulled his boxers down slowly, _just_ shy of the pressure Matthew needed. Gilbert stared down at him, looking at him like he was an artist's masterpiece, and Matthew had to fight not touch himself or even just come right then because he wanted Gilbert to make him go over the edge. So Matthew fought himself and kept making those high sobs of want because it needed to be Gilbert. His back was arched and his head was thrown back a little as he fought his body while Gilbert watched.

Matthew barely heard Gilbert whisper, "Shit, Mattie, these are damn near soaked." Matthew didn't know exactly what Gilbert saw but suddenly there was a soft touch on his face and Gilbert was saying softly, "Look at me, _Schätzchen_. Come on, let me see you."

Matthew struggled to focus. His back relaxed and he had to blink several times but eventually registered that Gilbert was leaning over him with one hand on his face. He looked equal parts concerned, amazed, and aroused. Matthew was panting with the effort to control himself and he was only able to get out, "Gil, angel, _please_."

Gilbert kissed him lightly, like he was suddenly fragile. Matthew grabbed hold of Gilbert's back, hands slipping a little with the sweat, and distantly noticed that he was breathing heavily, too. Gilbert said quietly, "Tell me what you need."

Matthew focused as best as he could on Gilbert's eyes and said, "Touch me."

Gilbert reached for him instantly. He managed to get in two pumps before Matthew's vision flashed white and he raked his nails down Gilbert's back. Matthew's body went rigid with pleasure and he came so hard he wasn't even sure if he was making any noise. He knew Gilbert wanted to watch him so he tried to keep looking at him through it. In the end, the combined pleasure of feeling Gilbert continue to stroke him through the orgasm, the look of amazement and possessiveness on Gilbert's face, and the fact that it was just _Gilbert,_ Matthew had to close his eyes and fling his head back.

He came down from the high panting, overheated, and utterly relaxed, pushing Gilbert's hand off of him because he was too sensitive for it. He blinked up at Gilbert who looked like he had frozen in place. Matthew frowned a little and ran a soft hand down his back. His voice was rough when he said, "Gil?"

Gilbert kissed him desperately, like he had wanted to do so forever and this was the first time he could. He pulled away quickly enough and squeezed his eyes shut. He looked like he was trying to control himself. He sounded strangled when he said, "Fuck, you're beautiful. A goddamn miracle. Check in with me, _Schätzchen._ How are you doing? That looked really intense and you scared me a bit at the end. Are you okay?"

Matthew took stock of his body. He was shaking a little, though that was common for him after an orgasm like that. He became aware of the fact that his stomach and part of Gilbert's was covered in his come. That realization make his dick twitch in a valiant effort to rejoin proceedings, but he needed more time before that was a possibility. Matthew had a short refractory period, he thought all Nations did, but he needed a breather after that. Otherwise, he just felt good. Really good. Maybe a little cold.

"I'm better than okay, Gil. In case you didn't notice, I did just have a hell of an orgasm." Matthew smiled lazily at him, the lingering pleasure he felt evident in his expression. "You okay?"

Gilbert laughed on relief and said, "Yeah, I'm good." He kissed him again and Matthew shivered from a combination of the touch and the fact that his overheated, sweat-covered skin was in a temperature controlled room. Gilbert was throwing off a lot of heat, but he was still getting cold.

Matthew pulled away and said, "Can we move this into the sheets instead of on top of them?"

Gilbert smiled and moved to stand up, pulling Matthew with him by the hand until they were both standing. When they had their feet on the floor, Matthew touched Gilbert's hip and frowned. Something wasn't right with this situation. "Gil, why are you still wearing clothes? I should not be the only naked person in this room."

"I was planning on keeping them on for a while. They're helping me control myself."

Matthew moved closer to Gilbert and, just shy of them touching, took advantage of the very small difference in their height to say against his lips, "And if I don't want you to be in control?" He inched his fingers to touch the skin of Gilbert's hip just under the elastic band of the boxers and traced along that path forwards until Gilbert grabbed his hand.

"Me out of control is very aggressive, _Schätzchen_. It's not me at my best and that's what you deserve. I also have a higher chance of coming before I plan to and I really wanted to be inside you when I came the first time."

 _God_ , but Gilbert was so sincere. Matthew's heart did that worrying skipping thing and this was one of those moments when he was very aware that he was in love with this man. He didn't move his hand in the boxers, but he did reach up to touch Gilbert's face and kiss him softly and slowly.

Matthew pulled a little away to say, "Oh, angel, you should know that I want all of you, not just your best. No matter what you throw at me, I can take it. Besides, weren't you the one that talked to me about the advantages of being bad?" Matthew smiled and then he had a thought that made it turn wicked, every thought of the room's temperature forgotten. "As for the other thing…"

Matthew stepped back a little and lowered himself to his knees, eyes never leaving Gilbert's on the descent. He had turned his hand so that he was now holding the fabric and brought the other one down to mirror the position. He watched surprise and abject desire flash over Gilbert's face. In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to make Gilbert lose control like he did. Matthew wanted him to feel that consumed by being with him and the high of release that followed.

With that in mind, Matthew looked away from Gilbert's face to slowly trail down his body until he stopped at the juncture of Gilbert's thighs. Even with the dark color, Matthew could easily make out the outline of Gilbert's cock and was reminded of how it felt in his hand. He didn't have to fake the pleased hum that went through him and he fisted his hands to stretch the fabric tighter against him. Gilbert made a pained sound so Matthew let up a little. He bit his lip and looked up at Gilbert with a question in his eyes.

Gilbert let out a sound like he had been punched, his breath short, harsh, and unexpected. Then he reached to coax Matthew's lip from between his teeth and said, "Say what you want, Mattie."

"I want a lot of things, Gil." Matthew leaned closer to Gilbert's body so that he could feel his breath as he spoke. "I want everything you described earlier. I want you to fuck me hard and fast and _soon_. And right this second I really want to suck your dick. May I?"

Gilbert groaned low in his throat and said, "How could I refuse that offer?" Matthew started to pull down Gilbert's boxers, eyes on the prize, when he felt Gilbert move his hand to card his fingers through Matthew's hair, effectively removing his wayward curl from the picture. Gilbert continued with, "I was quite serious when I said I wanted to come inside you the first time, by which I meant buried in your ass as far as possible in case that wasn't clear."

Matthew chuckled, low and dark as Gilbert stepped out of the offending garment. "No promises."

Gilbert's dick was long, thick, and uncut, like Matthew's. Gilbert was more aroused the he was letting on, a drop of pre-come appearing when Matthew lightly scrapped his nails up his thighs. His mouth watered and he rolled his eyes up to make sure Gilbert was watching him. Then he rested one hand on Gilbert's hip and gripped the base of his dick before closing his eyes and kissing that drop away. That was all the forewarning Gilbert was going to get.

Matthew opened his mouth and took Gilbert down as far as he could. Admittedly, that wasn't all that far since he knew all about his very active gag reflex and stopping foreplay to go throw up was never on his agenda. Still, Gilbert didn't seem to mind as he moaned and pulled Matthew's hair.

Well aware of the spatial limits, Matthew focused on the details and listened to small changes in Gilbert's breathing as he started moving. He figured out how hard he should suck or not depending on which direction his head was moving. Matthew learned how to twist his wrist to make Gilbert gasp, how a flick of the tongue led to a renewed saltiness in his mouth, and that Gilbert's ass felt as good as it looked. Once he figured out all the tricks, he used them relentlessly with two goals in mind: make Gilbert come in his mouth or make him lose control. If what he had seen was Gilbert being good, he _really_ wanted to see him be bad.

Matthew moaned as a flash of heat went through him at the thought and Gilbert's hand tightened painfully. He had been relatively quiet, so Matthew wasn't expecting him to say, "Fuck, Matthew. Your _mouth_ … God, do you know what you look like with your lips stretched around… my…"

Gilbert trailed off when Matthew had looked up at him. Matthew knew exactly what he looked like and that's why he did it. For some reason, the people he had been with went crazy when he looked up from a blow job, something apparently about how his eyes looked almost purple with how dark they were and how he had somehow managed to look innocent with a dick in his mouth.

For whatever reason, that got to people and Gilbert was no different in that regard. Matthew saw his face go slack before tightening into a smile that was more like baring his teeth than anything. His eyes went from wide and a little hazy to squinting and focused. A thrill went through Matthew at the change and he made a sound, muffled but still audible. He could have sworn he heard Gilbert growl as he kept Matthew's head immobile as he stepped away. Breathing heavily and still looking up at him, Matthew dropped his hands.

Gilbert pulled a little on his hair and said, "Stand up, Mattie."

Matthew really wasn't complaining much since he had achieved his goal, but he wasn't just going to do what Gilbert said without a word; that wasn't the game they were playing that day. He started to get up, his knees reminding him of the importance of a cushioning, and said, "I wasn't done." He winched in discomfort as his jaw ached and the skin of this stomach reminded him that the feeling of come cooling on you wasn't great once you weren't distracted from it. On the positive side, enough time had passed for Matthew to be half hard, even with the unpleasant aches.

Gilbert still had that hyper focused look in his eyes when he used both hands to pull Matthew abruptly against him. Matthew stumbled and then they were pressed together, finally both bare against each other. Matthew groaned and Gilbert learned the shape of his back with one hand and tilted Matthew's head to the side to kiss along his jawline. In a tone that sounded a hell of a lot like purring, he said, "Does it hurt, _Liebling_?"

Matthew tried to shake his head but Gilbert's hand was firm and unyielding in his hair. He inhaled sharply and managed to breathe out, "Not really, just a little uncomfortable after a while. I could easily be distracted from it."

Gilbert hummed and starting nipping along the pulse of Matthew's neck as his hand traveled in a sure and steady path down his back. Matthew's hands roamed, never staying in the same place for long, stopping only when Gilbert finally palmed his ass and squeezed. Gasping, Matthew felt a shock travel from the base of his neck to his dick and felt himself grow harder. He felt Gilbert smile against him and knew that Gilbert felt his reaction. Gilbert did it again and guided Matthew to straighten his head. He then looked at Matthew with that same fucking smirk from before, the glint in his eyes making it all the more worrisome. Matthew felt himself break out into a sweat as Gilbert let the moment hang for a moment and left Matthew to wait.

Then he said, "You said 'hard and fast,' right?" At the same time, Gilbert slid his fingers along Matthew's skin to brush against his entrance. Matthew startled and felt his mouth go slack. His hands clutched at Gilbert and his eyes closed when the slightest pressure was applied.

Matthew groaned but wasn't completely lost in anticipation. His earlier orgasm had relieved some of tension that had been building inside him since they had first met, so he was mostly in control of himself. He smirked right back at him and slit his eyes open to say, "I also said ' _soon,_ ' Gil."

Gilbert kissed him hard then backed away to say, "Then I'm going to need some lube, don't you think?"

Matthew had a brief moment of _oh shit do I have any of that left_ panic before he remembered he had just picked up a bottle for this very purpose. "It's in the drawer."

"Good to know. Get in the bed, Matthew."

Matthew was certainly not going to object, though he was reluctant to let Gilbert go. He kissed him again and started to turn away when Gilbert pulled him back. It was hard and thorough and as soon as Matthew started making noise Gilbert pulled away abruptly. He then walked a little past him to go to the drawer, leaving Matthew breathless and moving the pillows away in a daze. He had drawn back the covers to suddenly have Gilbert at his back, pulling him upright against him with one arm around his waist and the other reaching down to stroke his cock. He tilted his head to the side instinctively and let Gilbert kiss him there. He had the fleeting thought that the hand around his waist would feel great holding his neck, pressing a little, but he knew that was a hard limit for Gilbert. Maybe they could talk at some point about something he could wear, like a necklace or collar.

Matthew groaned and Gilbert spoke into his neck, "How do you want me, _Liebling_?"

"Above me so I can watch you. Now stop talking." Matthew reached up to grab Gilbert's hair and manipulated their position until they were kissing deep and open-mouthed with Matthew arched against him. The little eager, pleased sounds Matthew kept making as Gilbert teased him were loud in the quiet of the room. Matthew made Gilbert stop long enough for him to move.

"Hands and knees first, okay?"

Matthew raised his eyebrow at him and said, "Yeah, sure," before climbing onto the bed.

When Gilbert didn't immediately follow, Matthew looked over his shoulder to see Gilbert watching him and looking a little lost. Matthew asked, concerned, "Gil?"

Gilbert's eyes snapped back into that earlier focus and he said, "You don't know, Mattie, and I need to fix that." Matthew frowned as he saw Gilbert place the bottle beside him as he moved to settle behind Matthew. Gilbert leaned over him to kiss him then start kissing down his spine.

"What don't I know?"

"How good you look, for one." Gilbert kept working his way down while he spoke, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake. "You have no clue what it does to me to see you like this, giving yourself to me." Gilbert's breath shuddered against him and Matthew felt him shiver. He had apparently stumbled upon one of Gilbert's kinks, one he would be more than happy to indulge. "The fact that you chose me…" Gilbert kissed the small dips on his lower back and Matthew dropped his head and closed his eyes. "…I'll make sure you'll never regret it."

Gilbert lightly bit his ass and Matthew jolted at the feeling of both of Gilbert's hands there as well. "Gil…!"

Gilbert let out a dark, low laugh and said, "I told you how I felt about oral. You didn't think that I meant just sucking dick, did you?"

"Oh, my God."

"I told you, I go by Gil."

Matthew made a distressed sound and opened his mouth to tell Gilbert just how _inappropriate_ that joke was considering and how this was _so not the time_. Instead, he inhaled sharply at the first touch of Gilbert's mouth and couldn't say much of anything after that. Well, nothing coherent, anyway.

It had been an exceptionally long time since anyone bothered to eat him out and no one had moved with Gilbert's surety. It wasn't long before he felt his body relax into Gilbert who knew how to use the new space to his advantage. It couldn't have been more than a few minutes before Matthew felt his legs shaking and he was a gasping, needy mess. Gilbert had given him little time to adjust to the feeling, never once slowing or moving in any predictable way. When he pressed a finger into him, Matthew moaned shakily and moved his hips. Even he wasn't quite sure if he was trying to get away or ask for more. When that finger brushed his prostate, he bit down on the sheet and screamed.

That was the last straw for him. "Gil, Gilbert, _please_ , I need to see you and for you to _actually_ fuck me. Fucking _please_ , I don't know how much more I can take."

Gilbert, miracle of miracles, did stop touching him long enough to forcibly move him onto his back. Matthew looked up at him and saw Gilbert staring at him with a like he was considering something and looking like something Matthew dreamed up. Neither of them moved for a moment, just breathing hard and leering at each other. Then Matthew grabbed the bottle of lube and put it into Gilbert's hand.

It was like a switch had been thrown. Matthew sat up, reaching for Gilbert he leaned down to meet him and clutch him closer with one hand. The other worked to unscrew the bottle as they kissed. Matthew noticed and moved his body in blatant invitation: widening his legs, rubbing their hips together, and making a litany of small eager noises. Gilbert pulled away and used both hands to pour a generous amount of liquid unto his fingers before deliberately putting the lid back on and carelessly tossing the bottle a little ways to the side.

Matthew watched, entranced, as Gilbert propped himself up and reached down. Realizing he was tensing in anticipation, Matthew forced himself to relax. It was difficult to maintain at the first touch, the lubrication too cool to be comfortable. He tried, though, closing his eyes in concentration.

"I know you did that on purpose, by the way."

Matthew opened his eyes to see Gilbert look as predatory had he had ever seen him. He felt Gilbert's fingers circling his entrance, teasing him, despite the fact that Matthew knew he could probably take two at this point. He moved into the touch, trying to force them in, only to have Gilbert move with him. Pretty sure he was pouting (but not caring), Matthew whined, "Gil, what are you-"

Gilbert cut him off with a short kiss and then said against his lips, "You wanted me to lose it. I saw it in your eyes when your mouth was still stretched around my dick." Gilbert bit his lip and Matthew arched into him, frustrated. "I had plans, _Schätzchen_ , plans for our first time together. But now I can't remember them because you wanted me like this. The question is…" Gilbert pulled away a little to look Matthew in the eye, his hand stilling against him. His voice was barely a whisper when he said, "Can you take it?"

Matthew's eyes widened and his breathing sped even more. He licked his lips and nodded. "Yes, I want you anyway I can have you. I can take you."

A shudder went through Gilbert and he closed his eyes. He rested his forehead against Matthew's and said softly, "Remember your safeword, Birdie." Then he slammed to fingers into him.

Matthew was still relaxed from before, so it didn't hurt so much as burn in that unique way that first being filled felt. He cried out and threw his head back, relieved. Gilbert kissed his neck and gave him a moment to adjust before he continued to stretch him.

It was rough and fast and everything Matthew wanted. Every time Gilbert pressed as far in him as possible, his breath hitched. It wasn't long until Matthew started to move with him and Gilbert sat up to get a better angle. Matthew watched his muscles flex with each movement and the sight made him moan. When Gilbert curled his fingers and found his prostate again, Matthew closed his eyes and gave a quick shout as a flood of pleasure went through him.

Gilbert was mostly silent as he finger fucked Matthew, letting out a soft curse or commenting on how lucky he was or complementing his boyfriend. Matthew, for his part, wasn't really all that aware of things. If he was, he would have been able to see just how affected Gilbert was at watching his pleasure, how lost in it he was in it.

Matthew was aware enough to stop them before he came again. Panting, Matthew reached down to grab Gilbert's wrist to try and get him to halt long enough for him to say something. Gilbert responded by flexing his fingers and making him shudder again. He managed, "I need you."

"You have me."

"No, I _need_ you."

"I know, _Schätzchen_ , just a little longer. I want to make sure I don't hurt you."

 _Fucking hell_ , Matthew thought. Clearly, he needed to spell this out. He used his other hand to grab Gilbert's hair and pull a little so he would know he was serious. He felt feverish, desperate, and determined. He said, "I'm ready. Get. Your dick. In. My ass. Right. The fuck. Now."

Matthew watched Gilbert's flush deepen and his pupils expand impossibly wider so that the red was completely lost. "Okay."

Matthew let go of him and reached for the bottle of lube. He made a small noise of protest when Gilbert removed his hand, the sensation of being empty strange now. He contented himself with the knowledge that it wouldn't last long and poured some liquid into his hand. Then he capped to bottle and reached for Gilbert. They kissed as Matthew spread the lube over Gilbert's neglected hard-on. Gilbert growled into his mouth when his hand lingered and teased more than was necessary but Matthew just smirked. It was more than fair after what Gilbert had done to him. Still, Matthew let go of him and leaned back, wiping his hand on the sheets (these were already going to need to be washed after, so what the hell?).

Matthew watched Gilbert guide himself to his entrance and then he felt a familiar pressure. He looked up to see Gilbert watching him and he nodded again. Gilbert pushed inside him and Matthew made a small sound in the back of his throat. He looked down to where they were connected, Matthew with his knees bent and Gilbert who was balanced on his hands so the Matthew had a clear line of sight.

As Gilbert sunk into him slowly, Matthew watched and made little pleased sighs at the feeling. The stretch burned because, no matter how well prepared he was, Gilbert's dick was both longer and thicker than a few fingers. He didn't mind the burn at all because there was a maddening edge of pleasure to it. He was getting what he wanted and if the entry felt like this, then Matthew wasn't sure he would survive the rest. Beyond that, there was a deep feeling of _rightness_ as Gilbert went deeper. It was kind of like the feeling of coming home and it was only with the barest shred of self-preservation that he had left that Matthew didn't say _fuck, I love you_.

When they were pressed as close as possible, Matthew moaned low and long. He tilted his head up to look at Gilbert's face only to see him with a look that was a cross between concentration and pleasure. His eyes were closed tight and his brow was furrowed even as his mouth was slack. Matthew leaned up to kiss him, whimpering at the change in angle. Still, they managed and when Matthew pulled away and he said, "Gilbert."

"Matthew."

"Fuck me."

Gilbert didn't need to be told twice.

He slid of him until just the tip was left inside Matthew before quickly driving himself home. The force knocked Matthew from his perch on his elbows and onto his back. Matthew made a sound like he had been punched. Gilbert was watching his face for any signs of pain and what he saw must have been encouraging because he did it again, and again, and again, and again.

The pace was hard and punishing, pushing Matthew backwards until he had to put his hands above his head to stop himself from running into the headboard. He used the leverage to be an active participant, pushing back against Gilbert's thrusts and clinching around him when he could. Hearing Gilbert groan in response was more satisfying than Matthew dreamed. For his part, Matthew kept making little mewls every time their bodies slapped against each other. He screamed when Gilbert grabbed his hips and managed to hit his prostate dead on.

Gilbert then said, "How flexible are you?"

The question was a bit too complicated for Matthew at that moment. He blinked at Gilbert and said, "What?"

Gilbert gave him a considering look and then pulled out completely. Matthew cried out in protest and started to sit up only to be forced back down as Gilbert folded him almost in half, his thighs against his chest. He felt Gilbert's shoulders under his knees and then Gilbert inside him again. Matthew saw Gilbert's above him, drenched in sweat and flushed, then had trouble focusing his eyes on anything once Gilbert resumed fucking him. Nearly every other thrust hit his prostate, a pleasure that was so sharp and intense that it walked the line between _fuck yes_ and _too much_ and he was almost constantly screaming.

He was vaguely aware that he was sometimes saying things like Gilbert's name or _just like that_ or curses or _please_. When he said please, he wasn't entirely sure if he was asking for more or less because the feeling was consumingly intense. With Gilbert driving him into the mattress, Matthew was free to grab at his shoulders or reach to touch his back.

Matthew was approaching the edge of orgasm fast and it loomed like a storm cloud in the distance. He wanted to be able to touch more of him. He said, "Gil, my legs…"

Gilbert let first one than the other of Matthew's legs down, barely slowing. Matthew locked his legs behind Gilbert and pulled him closer. He sat up a little to kiss him, though they were too out of breath to do more than brush their lips together. Matthew panted out, "I'm close…"

"Good."

Gilbert then did everything in his power to make Matthew come sooner. He used one hand to stay upright while the other angled Matthew's hips. He adjusted his stokes to be short, hard, and fast against Matthew's prostate. He leaned down to suck and bite at Matthew's neck only to pull away and touch Matthew's dick.

Matthew was reduced to a litany of _oh_ , _fuck_ , _please_ , and _Gil_. He was distantly aware that Gilbert was barely holding it together, losing rhythm and speaking low and rapidly. Enough of it got through to Matthew that he knew Gilbert had a wonderfully dirty mind and was enjoying himself _spectacularly_.

By the time his vocabulary was reduced to _Gil_ , Matthew knew that he had seconds before he went over. He tried to warn Gilbert, clawing his fingers into his back and saying his name with more meaning behind it than he had before. He had a moment to see Gilbert's eyes focus then he was gone.

Matthew's vision clouded again out as a shock waves of pleasure pulsed through his body and made him go taunt. He was screaming wordlessly as the feeling first hit, too immersed to even think to form words. Then through the pleasure he felt Gilbert still moving inside him and jerking him off, making it last longer. He managed, " _Gil!_ "

He felt Gilbert's hips stutter and, still lost in the tail end of his orgasm, heard him groan brokenly. He felt teeth on his neck and heard Gilbert growl out, " _Mine_."

Matthew shuddered, shaking in the aftermath of coming, and his response was instinctual. "Fuck yes."

He heard Gilbert gasp he pushed himself up to look at Matthew. Then he gave two hard, deep thrusts and started coming. Matthew ran his hands along Gilbert's body and watched his eyes roll back and brow pinch together just a little. His hips were doing short fast thrusts as he emptied himself into Matthew's body and Matthew groaned at the feeling.

When he felt Gilbert go soft inside him, Matthew pulled him down for a kiss. It was thorough and satisfied and Matthew smiled into it.

Gilbert pulled away and they grinned at each other like idiots. Matthew was sure he looked a little dopey but was far too blissed out to care. He was relaxed but still shaking and utterly convinced that walking was beyond him at the moment. He cringed a little as Gilbert slipped out of him, feeling warm but achingly empty. Gilbert murmured words of comfort before kissing him softly again then moving to the side to lay down for a moment. Matthew pulled the cover over them and looked over to see Gilbert still smiling at him. He was helpless but to smile back and said, "Hi."

The smile widened and his red eyes sparkled with it. "Hi." Gilbert ducked his head and moved to hold him close. They cuddled for a few moments as their breathing slowed and Matthew found he didn't know what to say. He was giddy and fairly certain ruined for all other men. He started laughing a little and Gilbert lifted his head to frown confusingly at him.

Matthew just shook his head and pulled him into a brief but hard kiss. When he pulled away he said, "Fan-fucking-tastic."

Gilbert looked a little too pleased to pull off the smug look he was going for but it was a near thing. "I aim to please."

"You don't say."

Gilbert's smirk faded as he ran a hand down Matthew's side. "You're okay then?"

"Of course, angel. I'm not going to be walking anywhere for some minutes yet but I'm good. I'm _exceptionally_ good."

"That you are." Gilbert kissed him again before moving away completely to get out of bed. He said, "I'll be right back. Don't move, _Liebling_."

"Trust me, that won't be a problem."

He unabashedly watched Gilbert walk out the room, more happy than he should be at the visible scratches down his back. When he was gone, Matthew closed his eyes and stretched his arms above his head, feeling all the aches in his body. He sighed and laughed a little to himself. Gilbert certainly hadn't been lying when he mentioned that he had a dirty mouth in bed. Matthew shivered at the memory and moved to the edge of the bed to search through his nightstand drawer for some tissues to clean himself up a little. He didn't mind being covered with his come, but he wasn't planning on changing the sheets right that second and really would rather not spread his mess around.

When he was done, he burrowed under the covers seeking warmth. He suddenly wished Gilbert hadn't left and hoped he would hurry back. The bed was colder without him.

It didn't take long for Gilbert to come back carrying two cups of water and a wet washcloth. Matthew smiled at him and said, "What took you so long?"

Gilbert raised an eyebrow at him because he had been gone maybe 4 minutes. "Well, I had to walk past a staring polar bear naked. It's a little intimidating the first time around."

Matthew sat up and reached for the water, abruptly aware of his thirst. "Kumajiro's mostly harmless."

"Yeah, sure. I completely believe you. I thought I was moving exceptionally fast. What, did you miss me?"

Matthew felt silly for blushing after what they just did but that didn't stop his face from heating. He grabbed the offered glass and suddenly found the water very interesting. "You let all the heat out when you stood up."

"Uh huh." Gilbert didn't sound like he believed him but Matthew was too busy drinking his water to look at him. "Well in that case, I'd better warm you up."

"What?" Matthew looked up in time to see Gilbert rapidly approaching him. He had just enough time to stabilize the water some before Gilbert lightly tackled him to his side. Water splashed over them and Matthew squawked, "Gil!"

"Sorry, Birdie, I can't talk right now. I'm trying to be an effective space heater." Gilbert hooked an arm and a leg over Matthew to press them close. Matthew laughed because he really was giving off a lot of heat.

"Stop, you dork."

"Nope. Not until you admit that you missed me." Matthew looked over his shoulder as much as possible and saw Gilbert's shit eating grin. He was serious.

Matthew huffed and turned his head away from him. Recognizing a battle that wasn't worth fighting he grumbled, "I missed you, okay."

Gilbert kissed the back of his neck and happily said, "Okay." He didn't move.

"You didn't move."

"I'm not being a space heater right now, I'm cuddling. Can't a man cuddle his boyfriend a little?"

Matthew didn't really object to that, but he was still holding a half full glass of water. "That sounds great, angel, but I would really prefer to have this glass on the nightstand rather than in my hand. Would you mind?"

Gilbert took the water and moved away, giving Matthew the freedom to roll over to face him. When Gilbert turned around, Matthew was waiting for him. He said, "Now you decide to look at me."

"I've been looking at you for a while, Gil. Now get back here."

Gilbert smiled as he said, "I did notice that." He scooted down so that he was lounging on his side facing Matthew. He reached for him and they kissed lazily. Matthew laid on his back and pulled Gilbert down so that he was partially on top of him. Matthew hugged him close and Gilbert moved down a little so he could comfortably nuzzle Matthew's neck without really moving.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, relaxed and content, and Matthew was happy to stay that way. Then Gilbert stopped nuzzling and started kissing. Matthew had hummed and rubbed Gilbert's back, thinking that this was just more cuddling.

He jolted a little in surprise when Gilbert bit him then lightly licked over the spot in apology. Matthew gasped and said, "Gil, what are you doing?"

Gilbert pulled away and lifted himself up just enough to look at Matthew like he thought he was being obvious. "Marking you."

"Okaaaay…"

Gilbert then kissed his lips in such a way that Matthew couldn't help but react, making a small high sound and tightening his hold on him. "I have a question for you, Birdie."

"Yeah?"

"I brought that washcloth to give you the option of cleaning up a little if you wanted before we continued. I knew you liked being dirty but I still wanted to-"

"Wait, _continued_?" Matthew was really confused because he was still a little blissed out from some of the best sex he had ever had and here Gilbert was suggesting that they weren't done.

Gilbert smirked slowly, predatory and his eyes gained that glint that made Matthew's heart race. "Oh, _Liebling_ , I'm not nearly done with you yet. This was a water break."

" _Water break?"_

"Uh huh." Gilbert's eyes trailed along Matthew's body and licked his lips. Then he started to trail kisses down from his neck. "You remember what I told you when we first started?"

Matthew was breathing heavily and felt himself start to impossibly get hard again. This was unheard of, even for him. "You said a lot of things."

"You're right. I did say a lot of things and I meant every single one. I'm talking about what I said I was going to do to you today, not what I planned on doing to you later."

Matthew grabbed Gilbert's head with both hands to keep him from moving below his collarbone because he was trying to think. Gilbert's hand started to move over him and Matthew remembered, his heart stopping for a moment. "You said you were going to fuck me more than once."

"That's part of it." Gilbert moved so he was right in front of Matthew, eyes flicking between Matthew's mouth and his gaze. "What else?"

"That you were gonna make me come a lot."

"That's right." Gilbert kissed him again and Matthew was helpless to do anything but kiss back, arching against him. "And, Mattie?"

"Yeah?"

"I remembered what I planned on doing. You're not going to distract me this time."

Gilbert kissed him and moved so that he was between Matthew's legs again. He started moving down again and Matthew didn't stop him. He remembered Gilbert saying something about doing his best while in control and he shivered at what that might mean. If what they just did fell under Gilbert being out of control then…

 _Fuck_.

Yeah, Matthew was ruined for all other men. No doubt about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for formatting confusion in which I accidentally deleted a misplaced chapter and all the comments attached. In consolation, have some smut. There is a continuation of this scene, from Gilbert's POV, but that is in the Outtakes part of the series and will be posted tomorrow.  
> Note on the biology of Nations: The only time Nations are able to both carry physical and transmittable disease and/or exhibit symptoms are when there is pandemic in their population (those affected felt like shit during the Black Death), in the case of a natural disaster that devastates part of their geography or population (i.e. Arthur had serious heartburn during the Great Fire of London), and when they are dying. Conditions of Nation death include loss of territory and culture. If a Nation begins to show signs of being sick or aging (i.e the Roman Empire talking about his prostate problems in that one episode), then they should know what's coming. I'm telling you now so that no one freaks out on me: Gilbert is not experiencing any symptoms that would suggest Nation death (explained later) and wouldn't even think of using a condom. I'm also under the impression that Nation genetics are genetically incompatible with humans, so there are no equivalents of demigods running around, and are extremely infertile amongst themselves.


	28. Chapter 27: Words Unspoken

*Thursday*

"And you're sure you want to go," Gilbert asked for the third time as their pilot said that they were starting their final decent into Stockholm. The sun was just setting, turning the sky into a brilliant array of colors. Gilbert couldn't be bothered as he was busy watching Matthew shoot him a pointed look from the seat beside him.

"Yes, Gil, I'm sure. I'm starting to think you don't want me to go."

"That's not it, Birdie. I guess I'm just…nervous?"

Matthew's expression softened and he smiled a little. "I know, sweetheart." Matthew reached for his hand and squeezed a little because Gilbert had given him some idea of what this weekend meant to him both romantically and personally. He was introducing his first serious romantic partner since Elizabeta to his family, something that he didn't have then. Beyond that, this was the first world meeting Gilbert was attending since Reunification, the first time since 1938 that he was actually contributing to matters. Hell, the last time he was around a lot of these countries fully himself was 1947. After that…well, things were better now and a lot had changed since then. _He_ had changed. Gilbert was still dancing around telling Matthew about what happened behind the Iron Curtain, but it was more because he didn't want to talk about it than actively keeping it from him.

Matthew continued, "If it helps, Gil, I am, too. I'm basically doing the whole 'meet the family' thing after dating you for a week, not to mention the presentation we're giving."

Gilbert smirked and let the low level of arousal he always felt around Matthew creep into his gaze. "It was a hell of a week, though."

Matthew's smile widened slowly, his mouth held in a way that Gilbert now knew meant he was thinking wonderfully dirty thoughts. Gilbert felt like he had become an expert on Matthew's mouth since he allowed himself to think about it. "That it was."

They had had sex. A _lot_ of sex. But they had also worked together to do what research they could to prepare for this summit, Gilbert loving the flash of command in Matthew's eyes as he gracefully handled every challenge that came his way and wasn't discouraged by any roadblocks they stumbled upon. Matthew helped Gilbert adjust to working in the modern age and Gilbert supported Matthew when the stress wore on him. They had spent the evenings just relaxing, either together or apart, watching horrible television or reading or just talking for hours. No matter how they spent the night, they always woke up entangled and smiling.

"You shouldn't be nervous. They'll love you." He thought, _like I do_ , but didn't dare say it. The realization hit him on Wednesday afternoon when Matthew smiled weakly at him after masterfully handling a problem that arose from being away from work so long. It was just one instance out of the countless ones where they had turned to each other, if only for a moment, to share something privately, but something about that time made Gilbert think, _God, I love you._ It was more exhilarating and terrifying than anything he had ever felt for Roderich, grown from just being with Matthew and knowing him. It was similar to the love he felt for Ludwig in that it was unconditional and deep, only in an entirely different way. He wanted to take care of him but loved that Matthew was more than able to take care of himself and be there for Gilbert. He admired the quiet strength of him, so like velvet covered steel, and loved that he let Gilbert see all the weak places inside him born of too many years of hurt. Gilbert was awed at the kindness he was capable of even after enduring so much and it should be illegal to be that sexy. He could go on and on, to the point that Gilbert was surprised it took him so long to rationalize his feelings. But they had known each other just shy of a month. He was far too aware of how short that time was, especially for them considering their lifespan, so he was avoiding saying anything. He was happy, tried to show Matthew he cared, and Matthew seemed happy. That was good enough for now, right?

Matthew rolled his eyes at him. "You can't know that, Gil."

"Sure I can. Just be yourself in all your quiet snarky glory and you'll fit right in. Feliciano will welcome you immediately just because we're dating and you've already won points with Ludwig for asking me to call him, so you really have nothing to worry about. I have more to worry about than you do on that front. No offence, _Liebling_ , but I kinda think your brother is…"

"A narcissistic psychopath?"

"…A little intense."

Matthew sighed and rested his head on Gilbert's shoulder. "Sorry, it's just that is most of the world think about him. In all honesty, they're not that far off but he does care about a few people and I happen to be on that list. He just cares about himself more."

"That isn't exactly a soothing thought, Mattie."

Matthew lifted his head and said, "Don't worry, angel. I'll talk to him." Matthew gave him a lingering kiss before settling back in his own seat as they landed.

Gilbert tried not to let it bother him as they made their way from the plane through the airport. Matthew was quiet and looking a little worried as they passed various shops and Gilbert tried to get over himself. His concerns could be put off for the moment but Matthew was going to have to deal with Feliciano and Ludwig in minutes. He brushed his hand against Matthew's and received a distracted smile in return.

"It'll be okay, I promise," Gilbert said as they (finally) made their way through the last customs check and towards the public area. There was no hassle over their less human companions; Maple and Gilbird were still at Matthew's house. Modern airports were so restrictive about carrying polar bears about and birds nesting in one's hair, so they left them in the care of an overly chill neighbor.

"Uh huh," Matthew said, licking his lips and letting out a shaky breath. He saw Matthew start to kind of shrink into himself and bumped their shoulders together with a smile before pushing the door open.

Ludwig wasn't hard to spot. He was obnoxiously tall and also standing in parade rest directly across from the customs' exit, just far enough back to not be actively in anyone's way. He was looking at Feliciano moving his hands expressively as he spoke. If Feliciano wasn't there, he would have been standing at attention. Hell, he was probably the reason they both were dressed in casual clothes, too. Ludwig had a tendency to default to suits, the modern-day inconspicuous uniform.

Once the door was cleared, Gilbert reached for Matthew's hand and tried to smile reassuringly. "Okay?"

Gilbert watched as Matthew seemed to shake himself before steeling his spine and squeezing his hand back lightly. He said, "Sure."

Dragging his new luggage behind him, Gilbert didn't let go of Matthew's hand as he walked forward. He called out, "Oi, West!"

Feliciano stopped talking as both he and Ludwig snapped their heads around to find him. Feliciano reacted first, smiling wide and bounding up to meet him. Gilbert had to let go of everything to catch him as he threw himself into a hug. "Hi, Gil!"

"Hey, Feli. How have you been?" Gilbert hugged him back, though not as tightly. Feliciano was much stronger than he looked.

"Good, no thanks to you! Ve~ don't ever do that again!" Feliciano pinched his side as he pulled away, making Gilbert jump with a _hey_! He was just shushed as Ludwig reached them. "Hush, you. Now hug your brother. He would never say so, but Luddy was very worried about you and needs a hug."

Ludwig looked uncomfortable. "I really do not think that is necessary—"

Gilbert just reached up to hook an arm around his neck to pull him into a rough side hug. Gilbert grinned at him and said good-naturedly, "Hey, baby brother! Did you miss my awesome self?"

"Not in the least," Ludwig grumbled as he hugged him back.

Gilbert heard a slight cough and looked over to see Matthew looking down, trying not to laugh at them. His smile dimmed to something softer as he went back to Matthew's side and placed a hand at his lower back. He watched Matthew start to blush as he automatically relaxed into the touched before turning back to his family. Ludwig had eyebrows raised and Feliciano staring at them, eyes wide with surprise. He cleared his throat and said, "You both know Matthew?"

Matthew smiled at them politely and said, "Hello Ludwig, Feliciano. It's nice to see you both again." He held out his hand to offer a handshake.

Ludwig did his best to smile at him as he reached out "You too, Matthew. How was your—"

"Ve~ we don't shake hands!" Feliciano interrupted, slapping their hands away and stepping between them.

"We…don't?" Matthew said hesitantly, clearly thinking that he had done something wrong. Ludwig, however, looked resigned and Gilbert started grinning. They both knew what was coming.

"Of course not, silly! You're family now. We hug!" Feliciano threw his arms around Matthew's waist, forcing Gilbert a little to the side.

"Oh..." Matthew's voice shook a little, uncertain as his arms hung awkwardly in the air for a second. Then they closed around the smaller man lightly. "Thank you, Feliciano. I really appreciate that."

Feliciano pulled away with a grin before abruptly grabbing Matthew's face and kissing both of his cheeks. "Anytime and welcome to the family! Please, call me Feli."

Matthew, looking a little shell shocked, said, "Okay, Feli. Um, you can call me Mattie if you like."

Feliciano moved away completely to look at Ludwig and say, "See, Luddy. It really isn't that hard to call me Feli. Mattie got it on the first try!"

"I can see that, Feliciano," Ludwig said, clearly amused. "Congratulations, Matthew. Once Feliciano declares you part of the family, there's no way out. I understand it is an Italian thing."

Feliciano huffed then turned back to latch on to Matthew's arm. "Come on, Mattie. We have a lot to talk about and Luddy is apparently no fun today." He started dragging Matthew towards the door.

"Um, okay?" Matthew was just able to grab his suitcase and glance behind him to Gilbert, his expression only slightly alarmed, before turning back to Feliciano and answering his question with, "Yes, I've always been this tall."

Gilbert laughed under his breath before looking at his brother. Ludwig was watching them leave with slight amazement on his face and his expression as close to dopey as he ever got. Finally able to speak in German, he said, "You all right there, West?"

Ludwig cleared his throat and blanked his face. "Yes, of course. I just did not expect Feliciano to be so clever."

"What?"

"Well, I doubt you would want Matthew to see me give this to you." Ludwig pulled a box out of his light jacket and handed it to Gilbert. "As you requested."

Gilbert opened the case to see one of the few surviving relics of his kingdom. Museums owned a great deal of what remained, but Gilbert had a few left in his possession that he had managed to hold on to throughout the years. This one was very special and he only wanted to give it to Matthew.

Gilbert coughed and closed the box, quickly securing it in his bag. "Thank you, Ludwig."

"Of course." Ludwig then hesitated before he said, "You love him."

Gilbert looked at him sharply, denial on the tip of his tongue, before letting the urge go. He had no need to lie to his brother. "How did you know?"

"I saw you look at him." Ludwig turned to walk towards the exit and Gilbert fell into step beside him. "Have you said anything?"

Gilbert scoffed. "We've known each other for a month. No, I haven't told him."

"Well, if you do not want him or anyone else to know, you need to hide your feelings better."

"I can't _not_ look at him that way, Ludwig. Matthew would know immediately that something was wrong and I can't worry him." Ludwig just looked at him and Gilbert sighed. "Yeah, I've got it bad but there are things you don't know about him and I refuse to hurt him like that."

"It is your choice. But I did need to talk to you about something. How are you going to act at the meeting?"

Gilbert stopped walking, earning some disgruntled remarks from the travelers behind him but he was too angry to care. "What the hell do you think I'm going to do, Ludwig? Dance on the tables and show up three sheets to the wind?"

Ludwig was just as angry as he said, "You know that is not what I meant at all!"

"Do I?"

Ludwig stepped into Gilbert's personal space and said, "Do you really think that is how I see you after I watched you recover for the past two dozen years? I know you are not that person, that you were never that person, and fuck you for implying otherwise."

Ludwig turned away but Gilbert caught his arm. "Look, I'm sorry, alright? I'm just a little high strung over this whole thing. I shouldn't have taken it out on you."

Ludwig pursed his lips and sighed. "I understand that but, Gilbert, have you seen Ivan since 1989?"

Gilbert clinched his jaw and said, "No." He began walking again.

"Have you told Matthew about the Wall?"

"No, I haven't."

Ludwig cursed under his breath. "Look, we do not know how that is going to play out but I do know that Matthew is going to be concerned if not panicked if you go catatonic after just speaking to Ivan. Hell, we both know what Ivan is like. He will probably dangle what happened over you just to see how you react. Matthew cares about you; you told me as much and I can see it. Do you really think he will not know that something is wrong?"

Gilbert sighed. He hadn't thought of it that way. "He'll know. Hell, Birdie will probably be concerned if I try to go with my usual 'arrogant awesomeness' act. It hasn't felt real since the Great War."

"When was the last time you saw most of the nations? As entirely yourself, I mean?"

Gilbert frowned. "You know it was 1938."

"Would you say you've changed since then?"

Gilbert frowned at him. "Uh, yeah. We both have, a lot."

"So why do you feel the need to act like you did then?"

Gilbert stopped walking, surprised. Then he shrugged and smiled wryly, shooting his brother a look as they continued, Matthew and Feliciano in sight. Feliciano waved by the car and Matthew just smiled at him. "When'd you get so smart, West?"

"I was always the smart one, East."

Gilbert shoved him a little, laughing. "Yeah right, kid. I taught you everything you know!"

"No, you taught me everything _you_ know." Ludwig shoved him back with a smile before saying quickly, "But seriously, this is the happiest I've seen you in a century. Talk to Matthew. If there's anything I can do to help, let me know."

They were within earshot so Gilbert quietly said, "Thanks." Then, he said much louder, in English, "Aww, love you, too, West."

"Shut _up_ , Gilbert." Ludwig said, blushing as they approached the car. "Can you please just put your luggage in the boot so we can go?"

"So dramatic. I don't know how you deal with him, Feli."

"What can I say? It's a daily trial," Feliciano said, taking the sting out of his teasing by stretching up to kiss Ludwig's cheek.

Gilbert felt a sharp jab at his side and turn to see Matthew poking him. "Hey!"

"Stop teasing your brother, Gil," Matthew said with a slight frown. "It's not very nice and you shouldn't tease someone because they love you."

Gilbert's jaw dropped but he heard Ludwig say, surprised, "Thank you, Matthew. It is nice to have someone on my side for once."

Matthew shrugged but smiled. "It's really no problem. Alfred teases me all the time, so I know how it feels."

Gilbert looked between them, frowning. "Yes, okay, fine. We were leaving, right?"

Ludwig rolled his eyes and moved to open the door. Feliciano just smiled at everyone and moved to the passenger side of the car. Gilbert went about putting his luggage in the trunk only to have Matthew hug him from behind and kiss his neck. Gilbert relaxed as Matthew said, "You know you're my favorite, right?"

"Yeah." Gilbert turned around to kiss him properly before closing the trunk and moving to sit behind Feliciano. "Teasing must just be an older brother thing."

Matthew looked at him across the seat sharply. "Who told you he was older than me?"

There was a long second of silence through the car. Gilbert said, "No one, actually. I think everyone just assumed?"

"Wait, you're older, Mattie?" Feliciano asked.

"No. As far as we know, we're twins, but Alfred likes to say he's older because he had a tantrum over taxes and became independent first."

"I do not think it was a cognizant decision to think that you were younger, Matthew," Ludwig said. "There is a trend amongst us that has older siblings being exponentially more obnoxious, so it might be better to think of the presumption as a compliment."

"I'm sitting right here, West," Gilbert said, deadpan.

"Thank you, Ludwig, though I haven't seen Gilbert be obnoxious," Matthew said, a little confused. "He's been nothing but considerate."

"Thank you, Birdie." Ludwig shot Gilbert a subtle glance over his shoulder before focusing back on the road. Feliciano didn't bother and turned bodily around in his seat to stare at him. Gilbert said, "What?"

Feliciano looked at Matthew and said, "Gil must have been on his best behavior with you."

Gilbert started to protest at the sentiment at the same time Matthew barked out a laugh before covering his mouth. He said, "Sorry, but I _really_ doubt that."

Gilbert looked at Matthew to see his eyes smiling at him. He smirked in response. "Feliciano does have a point, _Schätzchen_. I did say I was doing my _best_ at certain—"

Matthew placed a soft hand over his lips to get him to stop speaking, eyes alarmed and face flushing. "Yes, right, thank you for reminding me."

"Anytime." Gilbert kissed his fingertips before pulling Matthew's hand down and lacing their fingers together.

They smiled at each other for a long moment before they heard Feliciano stage whisper to Ludwig, "I think they forgot we are here."

Matthew's eyes widened before turning his head to look out the window, blushing. Gilbert cleared his throat and looked forward. "Soooo, what's been going on in the past month?"

Feliciano was happy to fill him in, launching immediately into how working with Lovino in Italy went. Gilbert smiled and laughed and didn't let go of Matthew's hand.

* * *

Matthew groaned as he flopped back to lie on the bed, entirely clothed and utterly exhausted. It felt wonderful to lay down, if only for a second. Gilbert laid beside him with a sigh. He turned his head to look at him only to see Gilbert with his eyes closed, halfway to being asleep already. Matthew reached over and shook him. He said, "No, you can't go to sleep yet, Gil. We have to get ready for bed."

Gilbert didn't even bother opening his eyes as he said, "What do you mean 'get ready for bed?' I'm ready for bed. See look, I'm in bed and I'm falling asleep. Seems about right to me."

Matthew forced himself to roll over so he was on his side. "No, Gil, you're not. You're still dressed and need to clean up. Don't make me undress you."

Gilbert opened his eyes slightly. "I could wake up for that."

Matthew rolled his eyes. The only thing he was going to do in bed that night was sleep. "Two things. One, I would like to remind you we already had sex earlier in the shower. Two, the only thing on my mind is sleep."

Gilbert smirked at him. "Like that's ever stopped us before."

He had a point, but still. "Get your mind out of the gutter and your cute ass up. Come on."

Matthew made a herculean effort to stand, his body fighting him every second, only to hear Gilbert say, "Just let me lie here for a minute, Birdie. I'll get up then."

Matthew pursed his lips and looked down at him. He could pull him up, but he looked adorable lying there sleepily. "Alright, you can stay for now. But if I'm done and you're still lying here, I'm warning you that I will flick cold water on you until you get up." Gilbert pouted. "Don't pout at me. It doesn't work."

"Yes, it does."

It really did. Matthew didn't say anything in response and turned towards the bathroom where their stuff was unpacked from earlier. He was grateful that he didn't have to go digging through his luggage for his toothbrush. He stripped down to his boxers and started brushing his teeth, thinking about everything that happened since they landed. Traveling always was tiring, but he had been more than a bit nervous about being introduced as Gilbert's boyfriend to Ludwig and Feliciano. Being that anxious about anything for a long period of time was draining, though the whole thing went better than he could have anticipated. Ludwig seemed to really make an effort to get to know him and it certainly helped that Feliciano was so welcoming. Dinner was very nice, if a bit late for him. They had chosen to eat Thai food and Ludwig and Feliciano were nothing but friendly. Overall, the whole thing went much better than he had hoped. Sure, the conversation on the way to the car had thrown him, but he thinks it went well in any case.

*flashback (5 hours)*

"…Yes, I've always been this tall."

"I don't know why I never noticed before! You're almost as tall as Gil."

"It's not like you're short, Feli."

"Next to Luddy I am," Feliciano said miserably.

"Nearly everyone is short next to him. You shouldn't feel bad about it and I bet Ludwig doesn't mind at all."

Feliciano smiled at him, still keeping their pace fast. "You're right, he doesn't." Feliciano tilted his head at him and Matthew didn't know how he was walking through the crowd without bumping into people or things. "You're really nice, you know that, Mattie?"

"Thank you. I try to be but you are quite friendly yourself. I've been a bit nervous, so you welcoming me really helped calm me down. Thanks again for that."

"It's no problem. Were your other boyfriend's families not welcoming?"

"Ah, actually that has never been—watch out!" Matthew stopped them from moving into oncoming traffic right before Feliciano stepped in front of a car. He pulled him back with both hands and held his arms, concerned. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Happens all the time, just ask Luddy."

Matthew stared at him in shock and alarm for a second before he remembered that staring was rude. He shook his head and said, "Please watch where you are going."

The crosswalk signaled that it was safe to continue forward and Feliciano said, "Ve~ okay. Now, you were saying?"

"Oh! Gilbert is my first relationship, so there never was a need for me to do this before."

"Really? Huh. Ludwig is the only serious relationship I've had, too. I only met Gilbert after we met the second time, but it was before we were together."

"The second time? You had known him before the Great War?" Feliciano had a bittersweet smile on his face that made Matthew regret asking. "I'm sorry, Feli, I shouldn't have asked. You don't have to—"

"No, it's okay. It was just a very long time ago. We were basically children then and Ludwig wasn't Germany but the Holy Roman Empire. We were young and shy but it felt real. Then the Thirty Years' War happened and I thought he died. He did, in a way; he doesn't remember much of anything before Gilbert found him and nursed him back to health. When we met again in 1914, I saw him as a way to stay safe, then as a friend that reminded me of a lost love, then something else entirely. It was only after talking to Gilbert years later that I found out I had loved the same boy for 500 years."

"It's wonderful that you found each other again, but it must have been incredibly difficult," Matthew said, a little overwhelmed. He had had no clue that they had been through any of this. Gilbert only spoke briefly about being strong for Ludwig and making them secure, but the thought of what Feliciano lived through for them to be together was staggering. He had thought Ludwig was lost to him for more time than Matthew had been alive.

"Yes, but he's worth everything." They had reached the car and Matthew started to put his luggage in the trunk when Feliciano stopped him with a hand on his arm, face serious. "Mattie, I need you to understand how much Gil means to us. He is quite literally the only reason Ludwig is here today and he has lived through terrible things to make that happen. He's made his mistakes, we all have, but he deserves to be happy. Ludwig and I agreed years ago to do anything to make that happen. He's been hurt enough. The 20th century alone..." Feliciano shuddered.

"I understand." Matthew did. This was a version of the "you hurt him, you die" speech that he heard so much about. He had been expecting it to come from Ludwig, but he thought that Feliciano was doing surprisingly well. "Gilbert…I would never intentionally hurt him. The very thought is repulsive to me. He's…He's vital, if that makes sense. I have a very high tolerance for people's behavior, Feli, but if someone ever threatened him, I would go to great lengths to make sure that they would never lay a finger on him. Terrifying lengths, really, and that thought doesn't bother me like it should because it's just the truth and anything is preferable to seeing him in pain."

Feliciano stared at him. "You love him."

Matthew startled. "How did you…?"

"What you said describes how I feel about Ludwig." Feliciano put his luggage in the trunk and slammed it shut before glancing over his shoulder at the faint sound of angry German. "They're on their way. So loud, aren't they?"

Matthew smiled and said, "That's how I knew if Gilbert was talking to Ludwig on the phone: loud, angry German."

"You should see them on a bad day. Usually they calm down after a minute or so, but other times they just yell for no good reason. I know they love each other and they are only like this together, but their personalities clash." Feliciano turned towards Matthew again, still serious though there was an edge of curiosity to his expression. Matthew hadn't known Feliciano to be anything but happy-go-lucky, so this was an interesting learning experience. "Before they get over here, I have to ask: do you know about Roderich?"

Matthew felt his face tighten in sudden anger. "Yes, I know what he did. Gilbert told me within a week of arriving."

Feliciano looked surprised at that. "Really? Wow, Gilbert must have liked you even then. How did you feel when he told you?"

Matthew ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "Honestly, I was furious at what he said to Gilbert. I hadn't known Gil for long but we were friends by then and the rage I felt was instinctual. I think he saw that and he made me promise not seriously hurt him or ask someone else to do so. Now, that I'm in love with him…" Matthew looked at Feliciano and let the cold fury show in his eyes. "If I hear Roderich say one thing that upsets Gilbert, I would be hard pressed not to break my promise and test the limits of our immortality."

Feliciano smiled at him. "I like you. Now," Feliciano's entire demeanor changed. His posture became more relaxed and open and an easy smile spread across his face. "Where do you want to go for dinner?"

"Anywhere is fine, I'm up for anything. But, Feli…Gil doesn't know. I haven't said anything, I mean."

Feliciano reacted like he had been slapped. "You haven't told him you love him?"

"No. He knows I care about him but I haven't told him. _Please_ don't mention it."

"Mattie, what the hell are you waiting for?"

"We've only know each other a month and have been dating for a week. I don't want to scare him off or make him feel pressured to say it back when he doesn't feel anything."

Feliciano looked at him like he was insane. "You think he doesn't care about you?"

"No, I'm pretty sure he does but we're really new and I don't want to mess it up. I'm just…cautious, I guess." Matthew bit his lip and looked away, embarrassed and out of his depth.

Feliciano made a frustrated noise. " _Fine_ , I won't say anything. Now, you need to smile so he doesn't ask you what's wrong." Then, like their conversation never stopped, he said, "I'm partial to Italian myself, but I'm always wary when I'm in other countries. Did they make the pasta? Did the skimp on the garlic? Did they overcook the sauce? It's always so stressful!"

Matthew laughed and felt his face brighten as Gilbert came into view, talking to Ludwig. Feliciano was waving to them when Matthew said, "We'll figure it out. Maybe they'll have an idea."

*end flashback*

Matthew was just finishing getting ready for bed when Gilbert stumbled into the bathroom, pulling his shirt over his head as he walked. Matthew smiled at his rumpled appearance and leaned back against the counter, saying, "Looks like you chose the easy route."

Gilbert squinted at him in the bright lights of the bathroom before veering towards Matthew. He tried to dodge out the way but Gilbert easily caught him around the waist and pulled him close. "Where are you going?"

"To bed, Gil."

"But I just got here." Gilbert nuzzled into his neck where a mark from the night before had disappeared and Matthew successfully fought the urge to shiver.

"I'm not giving a presentation covered in hickeys, Gil, so stop right there."

"They would be gone by morning. I could put them where no one would see but me…" Gilbert's hands drifted lower.

He had a very valid point and, really, if they were quick it would only take 20 minutes or so and— _nope, now is not the time._ He twisted away and Gilbert let him go. "I'm on to you, mister. We are going to bed _to sleep_ and that is all. Besides, weren't you half asleep 10 minutes ago?"

"I'm still half asleep but I always want you, Mattie."

And wasn't that the damnedest thing. Matthew blushed and turned away. He could resist Gil if he was just teasing, but he had no defense when it came to him being so sincerely sweet. Quietly he said, "Just hurry and come to bed, angel. I'll be waiting."

Matthew left the room before hearing Gilbert's response and turned down the bed. He climbed into the cold sheets and tried to get comfortable. It didn't work well and as soon as Gilbert joined him a few minutes later he moved to snuggle into his warmth with a sigh. Gilbert wrapped his arms around him and kissed the top of his head. Matthew said, "Night, Gil."

"Night, Birdie."

Matthew relaxed and was almost out when he heard Gilbert say a few moments later, "Hey, Matthew?"

Matthew forced himself from the edge of sleep because Gilbert only ever used his full name if they were having sex or when he was about to say something serious and important. He lifted his head and blinked at him, trying to focus. "Hmm? What is it?"

He could barely make out Gilbert's frown in the dark but the shadow of it wasn't comforting. Matthew began tensing even before Gilbert started to say, "It's just…It's kind of silly, but I'm worried about tomorrow."

Matthew relaxed and leaned up to kiss him. "It's not silly. I know it's a little nerve-wracking, sweetheart, but it'll be fine. You've already met everyone there and we've prepared as much as we can for our presentation. Is it that you're seeing everyone again?"

Gilbert laughed nervously and Matthew frowned. Something wasn't right. "Yeah, I guess you could say that."

"Is…is there someone in particular that you don't want to see?"

"Not who you think, _Liebling_." Gilbert smoothed a hand down Matthew's hair. "I'm okay, I promise. Get some rest."

Matthew was frowning but still said goodnight and laid back against him. Gilbert's arms tightened around him almost painfully. Matthew did his best to cuddle closer, giving comfort that wasn't asked for. He knew Gilbert wasn't telling him something but he had a right to his privacy. He was just going to have to look out for him as best as he could tomorrow so he could be there if Gilbert needed him.

Outside of Roderich, Matthew had no idea what Gilbert might be worried about to this extent. But everyone was relatively reasonable to deal with and this was just another standard (read: boring) world meeting. What was the worst that could happen?


	29. Chapter 28: Reactions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I added new tags in warning. Please mind them.

*Friday*

"Hey, Gil?"

"Yeah?" Gilbert walked back out of the bathroom, buttoning his shirt. He had gone for the classic black on black look, not wanting to have to think too hard about trying to match colors. He was going to wear a red shirt under his waistcoat and suit jacket, but Matthew got a certain look in his eye when he saw it and mentioned something about being distracted during their presentation.

Matthew was sitting on the bed, looking down at the itineraries they had received the day before when they checked in. His black suit jacket was lying beside him, matching the tie that hung from the collar of his dark blue dress shirt. He was frowning as he said, "Did you know Alistair was coming?"

Gilbert raised his eyebrows. "No, I didn't. What's Scottie doing here?"

"Apparently he's giving a special report on behalf of the UK on internet security. He goes right before us today."

"That's surprising. I know he's been interested in computers for a while and knows how to code, but I never thought he would want to go to one of these things and give a report on security." That last detail was particularly off. Alistair's interests were wide and varied, but Gilbert knew he did some hacking in his spare time. He did it just to see how long it would take him to get into the most secure systems out there. It was B & E for the modern world and that was always his favorite pastime.

Matthew looked up at him and smiled. Standing, he said, "Hey, handsome."

Gilbert smirked and let that train of thought go. He stepped into Matthew's personal space. "Careful, gorgeous. Flattery will get you everywhere."

Matthew kissed him only to push him away after a moment. "We should stop or we're going to be late." He didn't look like he wanted to stop.

"We have 30 minutes before roll call and it's just in the next building."

"Oh, I know and I'm telling you, if we don't stop now, I'm going to make us late. You have absolutely no idea what you dressed up does to me." Matthew sent him a sly look before walking away to pick up his tie. "Don't forget, Francis and Antonio now know you're here, too. They're going to want to talk to you."

Gilbert sighed. "I know." He called them individually over the past week to check in and let them know he was attending the summit. They still didn't know where he had been staying and Gilbert knew Francis in particular was going to have a lot to say about it, especially once it was clear that he and Matthew were together.

"So we are going to stop kissing and I'm going to put more clothes on you instead of taking them off." Matthew moved so that he was in front of him and Gilbert lifted his chin so that Matthew could fasten the last button and loop his tie around his neck. Gilbert looked down at him and smiled crookedly.

He placed his hands on Matthew's hips and said, "Are you sure I can't kiss you just one more time?"

Matthew froze with the cloth crossed in his hands. He met Gilbert's eyes then glanced down to his mouth. "Just the one…"

"Better make it count, then."

Between Matthew's hold on his tie and Gilbert's grip on his hips, they crashed together. The kiss was aggressive and unrelenting, neither of them willing break away to breathe or back down. Matthew made a sound the Gilbert exclusively associated with foreplay and he automatically shifted to pick him up. Matthew gasped and immediately wrapped his legs around Gilbert. He ran his hands through his hair and said, "They can talk to you later. We have time for a—"

There was a loud knock at the door that made them both still and look at the door. Matthew whispered, like he thought whoever it was could hear him, "Maybe they'll go away."

There was a second knock then they heard Ludwig say, "Gilbert? Matthew? Are you two ready?"

Gilbert cursed and he let Matthew down. "He's not going away."

"They might be downstairs already, Luddy."

"We both know they're not downstairs, Feliciano."

Gilbert sighed as he kissed Matthew's forehead before turning towards the door. He gave them both a minute to collect themselves. When Ludwig knocked again, he opened the door a little with his irritation clear on his face. "Can I _help you_ , little brother?"

"I'm sorry, Gil," Feliciano said mournfully. "I tried to give you two more time but Luddy here wasn't having it. You would think he would have more empathy. But noooo, he acts like he never tried to fu—"

"Oversharing!" Ludwig and Gilbert said at the same time.

Gilbert heard Matthew laugh softly behind him and felt a slight touch at his shoulder as Matthew pulled the door open wider. Besides the slightly swollen lips and light flush to his cheeks, Matthew looked completely composed and fully dressed. He smiled at them and said, "Good morning Feli, Ludwig. Did you both sleep well?"

They both seemed shocked at the question but Ludwig answered, "Yes, thank you."

"That's great. We'll be down in just a minute. Would you mind saving us something from the breakfast spread? We're running a little behind and my brother destroys a buffet like you wouldn't believe. Alfred wakes up late, but once he gets there, everything will be gone."

"Sure, it would be no problem at all," Ludwig said, sounding a little railroaded.

Matthew smiled wide and genuine. "Thanks. See you both in a second. Come on, Gil. You still need to finish getting dressed."

Matthew moved back into the room and left a lightly stunned silence behind him.

"Uh, I guess I will see you in a minute."

"Yeah. Later, guys." Feliciano was grinning at them both but Gilbert didn't know why. "What?"

"Ve~ I'll text you. Come on, Luddy." He started pulling Ludwig down the hall and Gilbert closed the door and looked at Matthew, confused.

"How did you…?"

Matthew just kept smiling and went back to tying his tie. "Your brother appreciates honesty and politeness and you appreciate me. You two fight so much, but defusing situations is something I'm very good at, so I did what I could." Matthew finished the knot and kissed him lightly before stepping away and double checking their notes. "You might want to fix your hair, angel."

Gilbert felt warmth spread in his chest and said as he put on his suit jacket, "Have I told you how wonderful you are today?"

Matthew flushed and ducked his head away. He was shy when it came to Gilbert giving him compliments, so he made sure to do it often. Matthew had figured out that if he denied any one of them, Gilbert would just keep saying more until he begrudgingly accepted them. Gilbert never wanted to give Matthew any reason to doubt how he felt, even if he wasn't going to outright say it for a while.

Gilbert was just about ready to go when he checked his hair in the mirror. He didn't bother fixing it but he did say as they headed to the door, "You gave me sex hair."

Matthew opened the door and, smiling mischievously, said, "Well, not intentionally. It's so easy, really. It's not my fault you're so fuckable." There was a sudden sound of serial coughing behind him and Gilbert watched Matthew blanch like he recognized the sound. Looking a little horrified, Matthew turned to look out of their room and down the hall a bit to say, "Good morning, Arthur. Are you all right?"

Yikes. Gilbert really hoped Arthur and Alfred were not staying next door to them.

Arthur got a hold of himself and said, sounding strained, "Good morning, Matthew."

Sighing, Gilbert followed Matthew out of the room and said, "Hey, Arthur."

"Gilbert! Fancy seeing you two here…together. Congratulations?" Arthur looked extremely uncomfortable.

Gilbert smiled at him and brushed his hand against Matthew's. "Thanks."

"Well, I was just heading to see if Alfred was awake yet," Arthur said, gesturing down the hall, _thank fuck_. "I'll just, um."

Matthew jumped in to say, "See you at the meeting."

"Right." Arthur started to turn away only to stop himself and say, "Gilbert, if you could do me a favor and tell Francis where you are going the next time you go on vacation? I would really like to avoid receiving a call from him in the future."

Ha! Gilbert could just imagine that conversation. "Sure."

Arthur nodded decisively to himself and walked further down the hall. Gilbert took Matthew's hand and tugged him in the opposite direction towards the elevators. He was able to control himself until one arrived, but as soon as the doors closed he started laughing. "That wasn't awkward at all."

Matthew was trying to frown but the corner of his mouth was twitching. "It's not funny, Gil."

"Come on, Mattie. It's a little funny."

"Okay, maybe a little." He grinned, and rolled his eyes. "I guess there were worse ways for him to find out."

"Yeah, it's not like we walked in on us or anything." Gilbert's phone buzzed in his pocket for a moment, signaling that he had received a text message.

He pulled it out and looked down as Matthew said, "My God, can you imagine how awful that would be."

The only thing that was showing on the home screen were a list of various emojis from Feliciano. Gilbert frowned and unlocked to phone to look at the entire thing. "I really rather…not."

The only actual words of the message were "MARRY HIM" which was followed by icons of a diamond ring and a church.

"Something interesting?"

Gilbert looked away, blanking the screen as he chuckled nervously. When Matthew just looked at him with more curiosity, he said, "Let's just say Feliciano approves of our relationship."

Matthew's entire face brightened. "Really? That's great, Gil. Why do you look nervous about it?" The elevator doors opened and they stepped into the lobby, turning towards the hallway that led to the convention center next door. It took Gilbert a few moments to figure out how to explain what Feliciano might do without mentioning the suggestion of matrimony. He would rather not open that can of worms a week into the relationship, thank you very much.

"Feli is very…enthusiastic about people he likes. Just brace yourself."

"I'm not sure I understand what you mean. Brace myself for what?"

"Well, he's probably going to—"

"Gilbert? _Matthew_?"

 _Oh, shit. Here we go_. They both stopped walking and Gilbert looked further down the hallway to see Francis with his phone in his hand, staring at them with his jaw on the floor. He glanced at Matthew to see the blood drain from his face yet again. He put a hand on his back and whispered, "You okay?"

Matthew sighed and smiled at him. "Yeah. Let's just get this out of the way."

"Do not _ignore_ me, you two!"

"We're not ignoring you, Francy-pants. See? We're walking right towards you."

"Do not 'Francy-pants' me right now, Gilbert. I cannot _believe_ you just—" Francis cut himself off, struggling to find the words. He started walking towards them and threw his hands up as if to say, _fuck it_. In French, he said, "Do you know how worried we were? You just disappear for a month then you say that you're going to your first world meeting in over two decades but everything is perfectly fine? Like I believed that. And you, Matthew. You told me you hadn't seen Gilbert. Yet here you are, coming from a hotel—" Francis gasped. "Are you sleeping together? Gilbert, are you sleeping with _my son_?!"

Since Francis was one of his best friends, that was certainly a disturbing way to look at their relationship. Gilbert said, "Whoa, wait a second. Since when is Mattie your son? Does he act like your father, Matthew?"

Francis said, "Since I helped raise him," at the same time Matthew said, "Well, not really. Maybe an older brother figure? Or a cousin?"

Francis gasped and Gilbert winced. "Look, I am fine and Matthew only lied because I asked him to. I sought sanctuary and he gave it. We both understand what that entails and I am extremely grateful for his generosity. Yes, we are recently started dating and that was as cautious as a decision as it could be. I'm sorry that I worried you and Tony, really, but I needed the space and I'm better than I have been in years. Did I miss anything, Birdie?"

Matthew visibly fought a smile but said, "No, I think you answered all his questions."

"He most certainly did not! Where exactly do you—"

"Francis, I understand that you are upset but can we talk about this later when we are not in the middle of the hallway?" An increasingly populated hallway at that. Gupta (Egypt) and Sadik had just passed by them and Gilbert heard the chatter of more people approaching behind them.

"Also, we really need to get to the correct room. Roll call is in about 10 minutes," Matthew said, glancing over his shoulder as if he was looking for someone.

Francis narrowed his eyes at both of them. "We will speak of this later. For now, I am happy to see you both." Francis hugged both of them briefly before pulling away and saying, "I'll show the way."

Francis walked ahead of them and Gilbert glanced at Matthew who shrugged. They followed as Francis began chattering about something and Gilbert gave an easy reply, automatic after so many years of friendship. Matthew was quiet but smiled a little every time Gilbert's arm brushed against his as they walked.

The sound of voices was loud just outside of the doors to the tiered meeting room. Gilbert tensed but felt a tug at his sleeve. He looked over to see Matthew smiling at him with understanding and he couldn't help but smile back. Right. This was just a routine conference where the nations would meet for a weekend to discuss issues then go home to largely ignore resolutions. He and Matthew would give their presentation and then…? They hadn't talked about the fact that Gilbert would almost certainly go home after the meeting or the implications of Gilbird being left at Matthew's house. It needed to be addressed soon.

"Mattie!" Feliciano came running up to them, noticing Francis at the last moment. "Oh, hi big brother France. Mattie, come with me. I need to introduce you to Lovino." Feliciano started pulling him away.

Matthew went, looking surprised, and said, "Um, the meeting's about to start, Feli. How about I meet with you during the break then we can go from there?"

"It'll only take a second. Besides, that's where I put your breakfast."

"Ah, see you later then," Matthew said to Gilbert and Francis before being led to the other side of the room where Lovino was sitting.

It was Francis who said, "I would not want to be in his shoes."

Gilbert agreed with him because Lovino was one of the most abrasive people he had ever met but he said, "Mattie can handle him."

Francis weighed him with his eyes and said, "Gil, I don't know what is going on, but I just am concerned about both of you getting hurt. You know that, yes?"

"I know. It's crazy but...I don't know. He's just different."

"Does he know you or just your 'awesome' self?" The question seemed to have more meaning behind it than Gilbert was getting, but he answered honestly.

"At first, I tried to maintain that image but he was just so easy to be around that it dropped naturally. It never even occurred to me to try after that. He knows _me_ , Francis. We're friends, not just lovers." Something about his answer made Francis stiffen in shock. He was going to ask him about it but Ludwig was shooting him a look he could feel from across the room. "We have to go, but I can talk to you later about this."

Francis sounded distracted but was smiling a little to himself as he said, "Yes, of course. See you."

"Later." Gilbert's eyes searched the room for his brother and began to move in that direction. His gaze then sought Matthew and was surprised to see him smiling _with_ Lovino and Feliciano. That wasn't odd at all.

He made it over to Ludwig and took the offered apple. He said, "Are you seeing what I'm seeing?"

"Yes, I am. It might be a good idea to bring Matthew to holiday dinners. He is, of course, invited in any case, but with him we may be able to get through an evening with minimal yelling."

Gilbert grunted as he bit into his breakfast. "Did you see what Feli sent me earlier?" A familiar flash of color appeared in his peripheral vision and Gilbert looked to the door to see Alistair walk in with Arthur and Alfred not far behind.

Ludwig sighed. "No. Do I want to know?"

"I think you would find it interesting." Gilbert unlocked his phone and pulled up the text. Alistair's gaze found him as he passed the phone to his brother. They had become very good at silent communication over the years. Whatever couldn't be said with a gesture was said with BSL. It had been difficult to learn, but Gilbert had needed to take his mind off things and Alistair had a deaf human friend. The skill had certainly been handy on several occasions.

Gilbert cocked his head to the side a little with raised eyebrows, conveying _I didn't expect to see you here_.

Alistair tilted his chin up and smirked. _I could say the same for you._

Ludwig said, "Do all of these emojis have meaning or are they just pictures?"

Gilbert scoffed and said, "He's your perpetual fiancé. What do you think he was trying to say?" He turned his wrist over and glanced down then back at Alistair. _Talk later?_

Alistair's eyes flicked to where Matthew was now talking to Alfred and raised his eyebrows slightly. _Both of you?_

Gilbert relaxed his posture and tilted his head down a fraction of an inch. _Sure thing_.

Ludwig said, "Beyond the obvious, you mean?"

Gilbert rolled his eyes and looked back at his brother just as Berwald was stepping up to the podium. "Yes, I understood the English."

Ludwig gave his phone back to him. "Best I can tell, Feliciano thinks Matthew is a literal God-given miracle, is congratulating you on finding him while threatening to steal him from you, and wants you to marry him. There was something about a song thrown in there, but I do not understand the reference."

"That's okay. I think I do." Put a ring on it, indeed. Still, Gilbert was impressed to say the least at Ludwig's interpretation skills. "Not bad, West. Thanks." Then he settled back into his seat as Berwald began to call the room to order. Just getting through the morning's roll and old business was going to take hours. He might as well get comfortable.

* * *

Alfred was making Matthew nervous. As per usual, he was seated beside his brother at the conference. Usually, within five minutes of a meeting he was on his phone, staring off into space, or doodling. Today, he kept shooting Matthew scrutinizing looks out of the corner of his eye. Whenever he started looking at something with prolonged focus that wasn't his boyfriend, trouble followed. Matthew was wary of calling attention to it because while ignorance may not be safe when it came to his brother, it was much more peaceful.

Matthew dealt with the pressure for the two and a half hours between the start of the summit and the first break. The minute recess was called, Matthew turned to him with a smile and said, "Is something bothering you, Alfred?"

Alfred narrowed his eyes and outright stared at him. "You look different, but the same. Like you've done something and got away with it."

Matthew cursed his brain for telling his face to flush bright red. "Uh, I'm sure I have no idea what you mean. I haven't done anything _wrong_." Alfred frowned at him then leaned into his personal space to look closely at him, like that would help. Matthew leaned away, averting his eyes.

Alfred gasped and leaned back with wide eyes. "No!"

"What?"

"Oh, my god!" Alfred's decibel level had risen with each word. They were attracting glances now, though people automatically dismissed it because it was Alfred. "Did…did you get laid?"

Matthew looked at him sharply. "Alfred, you are way too—"

"Holy shit, _you did!"_

"For the love of everything, _please_ shut up." Matthew covered his eyes with a hand and hunched over the table, praying for a hole to open in the earth to swallow him down and save him from his brother. He could practically feel the stares of people and bet the whole room could hear Alfred at this point. He had a volume control problem.

"I _knew_ you looked different! Too relaxed or something. Like you had been…wait, are you getting it on the _regular?!_ Who are you bon—ulk?"

Enough. Matthew grabbed Alfred by the collar, effectively shortening his air supply. He got in his brother's face and hissed at him, "If you don't stop talking right now, I'm going to make sure _every single person in the fucking room_ learns every excruciating detail of how puberty went for you. You know I know, so don't test me, Alfred."

"You wouldn't."

"So help me God, I will hit reply all to a summit notification email and put in everything, like the first time you had a wet dream and freaked out because you thought you wet the bed again. And how you couldn't look Arthur in the face for a week because—"

"Okay, okay," Alfred said more sedately, looking moderately cowed. Matthew let go of him and very pointedly did not look at anyone else in the room, especially Gilbert. "Geez, Mattie, lighten up. I'm just happy for you."

"Yeah, right. You wanted to embarrass me."

Alfred grinned, unrepentant. "That, too. It's by duty as older brother to make your life hell."

"We are twins and you know it, you ass."

"Source?"

Matthew closed his eyes and counted to ten. Then he counted to twenty. Finally, he looked back at him and said, "I love you, Alfred, but sometimes I want to kill you, just a little."

Alfred shrugged. "Eh, Arthur says that, too, though he wants to kill me all the time." Matthew shook his head. His brother was a mess. "Anyway, who are you fucking?"

Matthew pursed his lips and crossed his arms. Arthur would most likely tell him anyway, but he really didn't feel like accommodating Alfred right now. "Well, I am _dating_ someone. I was going to introduce the two of you officially on certain conditions, but now you can fuck right off."

"Aw, come on, Mattie!"

Matthew may have been a little pissed off. Alfred made him lose his temper like no one else. "No, _Alfie_ , I won't 'come on.' Actions have consequences, even if you get away with most of the crap you do. So, one, you're not meeting him until you agree to _very concrete rules_ and, two, don't pull a stunt like this again. That threat is a standing one."

Alfred rolled his eyes, uncaring. "Yeah, sure, whatever. What are the rules?"

"Do not threaten or intimidate him, please. I'm happy, he is happy, and I would like us to stay that way. Don't be rude to him. Do not pester him unnecessarily just because we are dating. And, above all, do _not_ bring up the past with him, do you hear me?"

Alfred got that focused look again. "You haven't been this angry with me in a long time. Is it really just because I announced the good news or do you actually care about this guy?"

"I care about him. A lot. If you hurt him, I will be 1812 upset. Got it?"

Alfred looked a little hurt and Matthew felt a familiar stab of shame that happened any time he tried to admonish his brother. For all of his faults, Alfred was incredibly earnest when he wasn't being a dick. He had almost childlike emotional responses to some things. It made dealing with him very difficult at times. "Yeah, Mattie, I get it. I love you, too, and just want you to be happy. If this guy makes you happy, then I'll be nice to him."

Matthew relaxed and smiled at him a little. "Thank you, Alfred. I really appreciate that. Sorry for snapping at you. The whole relationship thing is new and I'm a little nervous about it."

Alfred frowned at him a little. "Do you love him?"

Matthew's immediate response was to look around to see if anyone was still paying attention to their little melodrama. When he determined that the coast was clear and that Gilbert was across the room talking to Antonio, Matthew said softly, "Yes, I do. But he doesn't know it and you can't tell him that."

"No problem. I can keep a secret. My lips will be sealed as tight as Ft. Knox."

Like hell he could. "I'm serious, Alfred. He has to find out from me."

"I got it, Matthew! Now, who is he?"

He was going to regret this. "It's Gilbert, okay?"

Alfred physically recoiled from him, though managed to stay quiet as he hissed back, "That communist Nazi—"

"Eighteen. _Twelve_. Alfred. None of us are the same people we were twenty years ago, let alone how we were in the forties. Also, do you _really_ want me to bring up the long list of shit you pulled during the Cold War or any of the number of problems you have back home right now?"

Alfred looked surprised and, interestingly, a little proud. "Since when do you fight dirty, Mattie?"

It didn't feel dirty; it felt necessary. "Since it's for him."

Alfred relaxed back in his chair and smirked. "He must be one hot piece of ass to make you this crazy about him."

Oh, my God. Matthew was going to strangle his brother. There was no other course of action. "Do you _hear_ yourself when you speak or is that just beyond your brain function?"

Alfred had the audacity to laugh. "Relax. I approve of anyone who makes you of all people want to fight for them. What I'm saying is: I'll give him a chance." Matthew started to smile at him when he said, "But, seriously bro, how's the sex? He looks like a great—"

" _Goodbye_ , Alfred!" Matthew stood immediately and walked away to the sound of his brother laughing his ass off at him. He needed a break from him before he lost it and actually punched him.

Matthew headed towards the door, needing some distance from Alfred before he had to sit next to him for another 2 hours. He saw movement out of the corner of his eye and looked over to see Gilbert heading the same direction. Good. It would be nice to talk to someone reasonable. Matthew shot him a smile in greeting but kept moving to the exit. He knew his brother was watching them from his seat and desperately wanted to be away from that.

Matthew walked out of the room, intending to wait just beside the door for Gilbert. As he turned the corner, he ran into someone.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. I—"

"Matthew! Oh, it is so good to see you!"

He was embraced in a hug that only took him a second to return. It had been a long time since they had spoken, but Yekaterina was always a joy to see.

He pulled away with a smile, maneuvering them slightly so they were out of the doorway. Yekaterina's face was bright with an answering smile. Her emotions were always written on her face, which was refreshing considering the company they kept. No matter how bad things had been going for her, she always could smile in hope, not letting circumstances stop her from enjoying the moment. Matthew had seen that the first time they met and never regretted aiding her when he could.

"How have you been, Katyusha? It's been a while since we had a chance to talk."

"You know how it is, Mattie. Same problems, different decade. But that is okay. It just means I am an expert in dealing with them! What about you? I understand you have met someone…?" Yekaterina shot him a sly look and Matthew groaned.

"Did everyone hear Alfred?"

"I am afraid so. Your brother can really project his voice."

"I wish I was an only child."

"No, you don't. You love your brother." She leaned in to say conspiratorially, "Would you like mine instead?"

"N-no. No, thank you." For all of Alfred's faults, he knew how to deal with him. Ivan was just plain terrifying.

"See! It is not so bad. Now, who is the lucky guy? I must know."

"It's—"

"Hey, Mattie." Matthew turned towards the greeting with a smile. Gilbert returned the gesture and came to his side before noticing Yekaterina. "Oh, hey, Yekaterina. How have you—" she pulled him into a hard hug, "—been?"

"Gilbert! It has been too long. You can still call me Katyusha; that has not changed with time, my friend."

Matthew saw surprise flash over Gilbert's face before he smiled and returned the hug. Yekaterina was tall enough that Gilbert was able to bend his neck a little to kiss the top of her head before letting her go. "Of course, Katyusha. Apologies."

"There is nothing to forgive. I have been fine. You know Matthew?"

Gilbert started to smirk. "You could certainly say that." Yekaterina's eyes widened with surprise and Matthew blushed.

"Katyusha, Gilbert and I are actually dating." Gilbert put a hand on his back and Matthew smiled softly at him.

She gasped but grinned at them. She clapped her hands together once in delight and said, "That is wonderful! You are both happy, yes?" She looked between them, face still smiling but eyes serious, almost sad, especially as they lingered on Gilbert.

Matthew frowned as he answered with a distracted, "Yes."

Gilbert gave her a sad smile in return and Matthew heard alarm bells in his head. "Yeah, I really am."

Yekaterina's smile softened and she said, compassion clear, "That is great. You both deserve it, so much." She seemed to shake herself before smiling brightly at them. "I must hear everything. How did you two meet?"

"Uh…"Gilbert sounded a little lost so Matthew jumped in.

"Well, Gilbert wanted to go somewhere new and Gilbird went to a map of the world and chose Canada of all places. Alistair introduced us and I was happy to let him stay with me. The rest just…followed naturally."

Gilbert's hand moved to his waist and pulled him closer. He looked at him and saw Gilbert smiling at him with gratitude and affection. The look made Matthew blush and turn back to Yekaterina who was watching proceedings with rapt attention and joy apparent on her face. She said, "You cannot just leave me with that, Mattie. Who initiated the romance? Where did you guys go on your first date? I need details!"

"It's actually a little difficult to—"

"Sister! There you are. I have been looking everywhere for you."

Matthew felt Gilbert tense beside him and watched Yekaterina's joy disappear. The look she shot Gilbert was one filled with such intense concern that Matthew had to look at him. His face was as carefully blank as he had ever seen it, but Matthew didn't miss the clinch in his jaw or the feeling that flashed through his eyes before he made them expressionless, too. It was a look that was equal parts rage and terror and it made Matthew step a little in front of him as Ivan walked up to their little group. Gilbert's hand tightened on him, like he didn't approve of the movement, but Matthew didn't care.

Yekaterina changed expressions again to seem annoyed as she turned to her brother and said, "You found me. What is it, Ivan? I was in a middle of a very important conversation."

"The session is going to resume soon, Katyusha, and I know how you lose track of time." Ivan's cold lilac eyes shifted to Matthew and Gilbert, like he was just noticing them for the first time. "Oh, it's you, Matthew. I thought you were Alfred for a second."

That was highly disturbing considering Matthew knew how many times Ivan and his brother had slept together. Maybe that was the wrong word because Matthew doubted they trusted each other enough to actually sleep. "Hate-fucked" was probably the most accurate description for it.

Ivan didn't apologize, but Matthew was going to act like he did. He smiled his coldest polite smile and said, "It's alright, Ivan. A lot of people make that mistake."

He tilted his head to the side and stared at Matthew. Gilbert was suddenly at his back as Ivan said, "You and Alfred really are identical twins, aren't you? Except for you hair. And your eyes, of course. They are so much more passive."

Yekaterina put a hand on Ivan's arm and said, "Stop this, Ivan."

Matthew opened his mouth to reply but Gilbert beat him to the punch by saying, "You confuse passiveness for having a level head, though I'm not surprised you would made that mistake." Matthew would have given much at that moment to see Gilbert's face. He sounded like he was snarling. In lieu of that, he leaned back against him a little, conveying that he was glad Gilbert had his back.

Ivan's gaze shifted to Gilbert and Matthew felt him freeze against him. His breathing stopped and Matthew tensed, bracing for whatever Ivan was going to say. Surprisingly, the comment was directed at him.

"Matthew, I can see that you've finally chosen a lover amongst us. I have to say, I'm surprised you didn't choose someone with more to offer you. Though he is great in bed; he certainly had enough practice to be so. Didn't you, любимец?"

Gilbert reacted like he had been slapped, his entire body flinching. Matthew jumped to the obvious conclusion and rage filled him as so many things began to make sense. Just his hard limits alone... _I don't like being held down at all or pain…I can't do breath-play or anything with temperature…It's not who you think,_ Liebling _…_ The only thing keeping him from decking Ivan then and there was the death grip Gilbert had on his waist, keeping them pressed together. If Gilbert needed physical touch at that moment, Matthew would give it to him, would give him anything. He was far more important that Ivan.

Yekaterina clawed her hand into Ivan's arm and hissed, " _Enough_ , brother."

Ivan paid her no mind as a small, obscenely serene smile stretched across his face. "Such rage on your face, Matthew. I didn't think you capable of it. You act as if I didn't ask him every time before we fucked. But you said yes, didn't you, Gilbert?"

Matthew felt Gilbert shake against him but his voice was steel as he said, "Why are you bringing up ancient history, Ivan?"

Ivan shrugged nonchalantly. "Just making conversation." Like hell he was. "I simply came over to fetch my sister. Is it so wrong to take a moment to walk down memory lane?"

"Do not make me a part of your cruelty, Ivan. We are leaving." Yekaterina was as angry as Matthew had ever seen her, though she did spare a second to shoot him an apologetic glance. She as pulling Ivan's arm but Matthew knew from experience how immovable he was when he wanted to be.

Ivan said, "I guess some part of me wants to know why you chose him and not me, Matthew. My offer for us to be one has been open for well over a century and you can't have known Gilbert for long. So why?" Ivan reached forward as if to touch Matthew's face. Matthew lifted his chin, defiant. He was never going to let this man see fear on his face. It seemed like he hadn't done what Matthew had originally thought ( _thank God and all His angels_ ), but he had hurt Gilbert so deeply that he flinched at a word and was holding Matthew like a security blanket. Just because Gilbert had said yes didn't mean it was consensual and Ivan was clearly enjoying causing Gilbert pain. He did so easily, like it was a habit that he could slip into at a moment's notice. Matthew didn't know what had happened, but whatever it was very much so fell into the category of _never going to be okay._

No, Ivan wasn't going to see weakness in Matthew's face ever again.

"The list of why him is just as long as the list of why not you. It starts with 'he as a soul.'"

Before he could touch Matthew, Gilbert reached out and grabbed Ivan's wrist. "You don't get to touch him."

"Oh, любимец, that's so sweet. Do you _love_ him?" Ivan asked the question like it was silliest thing imaginable.

"Don't call me that and you wouldn't know love was if it came up and laid siege to Moscow."

Ivan smiled wide and a thrill went through Matthew. He knew that whatever was about to come out of his mouth wasn't good. Yekaterina was pulling on Ivan's arm hard enough that he was actually turning with every tug. Matthew's hand went to where Gilbert was clutching him painfully. They needed to leave before Ivan had a chance to say anything else. He said, "Gil, let's go—"

"You're right. I don't understand love. But you know what I do understand?" Ivan leaned over, suddenly close enough to them to loom. "Possession."

Gilbert dropped Ivan's wrist like he was burned and Yekaterina reached up and twisted her brother's ear. He was clearly in a great deal of pain as he bent towards her. She began pulling him away, furious, and said, "I apologize to both of you for my brother's behavior. I will make sure he doesn't bother you again this weekend."

Yekaterina marched them away to Ivan's protests in Russian to which she shot something back that made him cooperate. When they were out of sight, Gilbert wrapped both hands around Matthew's waist and hugged him tight. Matthew wanted to hug him back but settled for rubbing his arms and running a hand through his hair when he rested his head on Matthew's shoulder.

It was only moments before Francis came into view and shook his head at their position. He called the little ways down the hallway they were apart, "Two minute warning, lovebirds."

Gilbert flinched and Matthew shot a glare at Francis that made him put his hands up and walk into the meeting room and had several people around him looking away from them.

Gilbert sighed and started to pull away from him. As soon as he was able Matthew turned around to look at him. Gilbert's usually pale face was ghost white from strain and he looked exhausted. His eyes were haunted and not quite focused. Matthew cupped his face and said, worry clear in his voice, "What can I do?"

Gilbert closed his eyes and leaned into his touch for a moment before straightening from the slight slouch he had slipped into. His posture had military precision and he grabbed Matthew's hands to hold them in his. "Go back in there with me and act like nothing is wrong?"

"Gil…"

"Please, Matthew. I will explain everything later, I promise, but for now I can't have him knowing how much he still effects me."

Matthew closed his eyes for a second, fighting every urge he had to bundle Gilbert up in blankets and protect him from everything at that moment. But he knew Gilbert wasn't the type of person to allow that. No, his boyfriend was the one who fought every war to the bitter end, even if it killed him to do so. Matthew loved him both for and despite this, and would do anything for him. Returning to a meeting fell in the realm of 'anything.'

He couldn't bring himself to smile as he opened his eyes and said, "Of course."

Gilbert's relief was clear on his face and he kissed Matthew on the forehead. "Thank you," he whispered before visibly shaking himself and smiling at him. "See you later, Birdie."

Matthew returned it but knew that his eyes weren't in it. He was far too worried for that. "Later, angel."

Gilbert frowned and looked like he wanted to say something before shaking his head and turning into the meeting room. Matthew took 5 seconds to try and gain some composure before heading back in. He made a beeline to where he and he brother sat and managed to conjure a smile in greeting.

Alfred smiled back, oblivious to anything amiss. Matthew had always been good at hiding in plain sight and he used that skill to full capacity as he rolled his eyes at whatever Alfred was saying and focused on Berwald as he began moderating once more. It was still difficult and he couldn't help periodically glancing over to Gilbert to check on him. Every time he did, Gilbert looked perfectly normal for the most part. He was holding himself as if his simple seat were a throne and was paying attention to whomever was speaking at the time. But there was something in the way he held his mouth, in how precise every action was, that betrayed how upset he was. Matthew caught Ludwig's eye more than once to share a concerned glance and caught Alistair glaring at Ivan from across the room, despite the fact he had to twist in his chair to see him properly.

Something was desperately wrong and Matthew was the only one it seemed who didn't have the whole story. He didn't want to pressure Gilbert into sharing something he wasn't comfortable with but this whole situation was starting to scare him. What the fuck didn't he know?

* * *

Ludwig caught another one of Matthew's frantically worried glances and closed his eyes in an attempt to starve off a migraine. They had been cast his direction occasionally for the better part of two hours and his brother still was failing to acknowledge them. When Ludwig had asked what had happened before the meeting resumed, Gilbert had simply responded with, "Ivan." He hadn't said anything after that and was refusing to explain further on paper. If Matthew's reaction was anything to go by, he was still in the dark about what Gilbert went through and was probably increasingly frustrated with that fact.

His brother had a few different personas that he was apt to adopt in certain situations. The cocky, loud one was for whenever he was even slightly uncomfortable and unsure of the people around him. The dorky, caring one was for people he knew well. The silent, damn-near broken one that was there after 1989. Ludwig highly suspected that Matthew had seen a completely different side to Gilbert that he himself had only glimpsed at in the last day or so: his brother in love. The version of Gilbert that was sitting beside him at that second was his brother at war: cold, precise, strong, but stressed.

Matthew didn't know this side of him; Gilbert had fought on the Eastern Front and Matthew's battles had been elsewhere. Matthew hadn't been on the Allied Control Council when they had all but signed his brother's death warrant, the last time Ludwig had seen him like this. He had no reference to compare his boyfriend to the man sitting beside Ludwig and it was becoming increasingly obvious that Matthew was starting to internalize some of his fear.

Ludwig saw how much his brother cared for Matthew. The minute he realized how much he was hurting him, Gilbert would be devastated which would make anything he's going through ten times worse. He had always hated the idea of hurting those he cared about and Ludwig was damn sure Matthew was on that list. Gilbert was too far in his own head to see it, so Ludwig was going to have to make him.

The minute recess was called for lunch Ludwig grabbed his brother's arm and squeezed, saying, "Stop this, East."

Gilbert only shifted his head a little towards him and looked down at his arm. He shifted his eyes to look at Ludwig and tilted his head a little. His eyes were as cold and empty has Ludwig had ever seen them. He said, "Why?"

"Because you told me you did not want to hurt Matthew. I do not know what happened and I want to help you, but I know you, Gilbert. If you hurt him, you will never forgive yourself. So _stop_."

Gilbert frowned at him a little, a crack in his armor. "What do you talking about? I'm not…" He shifted his eyes to where Ludwig knew Matthew and Alfred were sitting. Gilbert blinked a couple of times and tensed as he said, " _Oh_. I didn't think he would—"

"What, care? Worry?"

"Yeah, I guess. I mean, I asked him to act normal and he agreed but…shit."

Ludwig squinted at him in confusion before coming to the conclusion that his brother was an idiot. Feliciano had told him about the conversation he had with Matthew the day before and how he said he wouldn't say anything, but this was getting beyond ridiculous by Ludwig's standards. He realized that he was being more than a little hypocritical but _come on._

He pinched the bridge of his nose and felt the migraine he had been fighting go from a possibility to a reality. He said, frustration clear in his voice, "Gilbert, I do not know exactly what happened, but if Feliciano saw me go through what Matthew just saw happen to you, do you not think that he would be out of his mind with worry?"

Gilbert's face a great deal more expressive and looked confused as he said, still looking in Matthew's direction, "West, that's different; Feli loves you." Gilbert smiled reassuringly, which probably meant Matthew had looked back over to them.

Ludwig wasn't going to say a word. He was going to sit there and stare at his brother until he got it.

It took a long moment in which Ludwig considered getting up and just leaving to go eat something, but Gilbert eventually turned back to look at him with a frown at the silence. "What?"

Ludwig sighed and glanced back to where Matthew had been sitting. Alfred was gone and Matthew, despite the frown on his face, seemed a great deal more relaxed as he spoke to Alistair about something. He looked back at Gilbert pointedly.

"I know he cares but you can't seriously think he…?"

There was someone approaching them and Ludwig's eyes shifted immediately, hoping that it was Feliciano; he was much better at dealing with situations like this. As it was, even after such a short time, Ludwig was already starting to lose patience.

Unfortunately for all involved, Feliciano happened to be across the room with Lovino and Antonio. The anger was instantaneous and Gilbert turned around immediately, sensing Ludwig's shift in mood. Gilbert tensed and sounded confused as he said, "Specs?"

Roderich's eyes were cold as he smiled. "Hello, Gilbert, Ludwig."

Little people in cleats were doing a jig on behind Ludwig's eyes, he was sure of it. He sounded remarkably put upon as he said, "What do you want, Roderich?"

Roderich looked down his nose at him, somehow managing to look condescending and pitying at the same time. "I know you were raised primarily by wolves, Ludwig, I had at least thought _some_ of the manners I taught you stuck."

Ludwig rolled his eyes so hard that he moved his head enough to see if Matthew was watching as well. If the hold Alistair had on him was any indication, yes, he was. But it seemed like Alistair had said something that made Matthew stare at him in blatant shock and cease moving in this direction. Interesting.

Ludwig focused back on the situation at hand and was more surprised than anyone when Gilbert said, sounding _amused_ , "And if you had all the manners you pretend to possess, you wouldn't have commented on a lack of his."

Okay, maybe Roderich was more surprised.

He looked completely thrown off balance as Roderich's jaw dropped and he sputtered out, "E-excuse me?"

"Unlike you, I didn't stutter." Ludwig's jaw dropped at the sheer nerve of his brother. Then, he started to smile for the same reason. Gilbert relaxed back into his chair and chuckled to himself. "Anyway, I'm glad you came over for whatever reason. I have a few things to say to you."

Roderich had regained his composure and managed to sneer out, "Do you?"

"Sure do. First, I would like to apologize for a few things."

Ludwig tensed abruptly and said, "What?"

Roderich seemed just as confused, " _You_ want to apologize? Oh, this will be rich." He crossed his arms and made a dramatic show of waiting.

"Laugh all you want but I'm serious. I would like to apologize for how I left more than a bit of a mess behind when I went home. Also, I was told that Francis and Antonio visited you after I left."

Roderich was frowning but managed to interject, "Not just them." He slid his eyes to Ludwig and he had to fight the juvenile urge to make a rude gesture.

Gilbert didn't even bother turning around to look at him. He continued with, "Well, whoever came to see you about what happened, I'm sorry they bothered you."

"Gilbert!"

Gilbert looked over his shoulder to Ludwig and shrugged. "What, West? I asked you to leave him alone and pass the message along."

"That was…surprisingly decent of you, Gilbert," Roderich said begrudgingly. Gilbert raised his eyebrows to Ludwig before turning back to Roderich.

"What can I say? I'm a surprisingly decent guy. Now, lastly, I want to thank you." Ludwig immediately started protesting but Gilbert raised a hand to quiet him and talked over whatever he was going to say. "Thank you, Roderich, for being such an unawesomely huge asshole. The fact that you responded to an attempt to initiate romance with telling me that you wish that I died horribly speaks to juvenile pettiness that I want no part of and, frankly, I dodged a bullet there. Finally, because you were such a dick, I was able to find someone who is the closest thing to perfect I can imagine. So, thank you, Specs. Your attempt to break me in the end has made me happier than I have been in over a century." Gilbert paused and Roderich stood there, dumbfounded. "Now, what did you come over here to say?"

Was giving a standing ovation an inappropriate response? Ludwig thought it was, so he was regulated to applauding his brother on the inside. Outwardly, he smiled.

When Roderich stalked away in a huff, Gilbert shrugged again and turned back to Ludwig. "So, you were saying something about Birdie?"

No, he wasn't. Still, he answered with, "Your boyfriend seemed to be concerned about you, especially when he saw Roderich over here."

Gilbert immediately looked over Ludwig's shoulder for Matthew and widened his eyes in slight panic. "What?"

Ludwig looked behind him and saw that both Matthew and Alistair were gone. "You might want to go find him."

Gilbert was already up and working his way to the front of the room, shouting a brief, "Later, West," as he went.

Ludwig shook his head as he watched him go. He would either get his head out of his ass and see that Matthew loved him or would have to wait until Matthew straight up told him. At that moment, Ludwig was still proud of Gilbert for how he stood up to Roderich. Maybe after Ivan, Roderich was easy to handle?

Ludwig let that thought go as his eye caught a blur of movement just in time for him to brace for a lap full of Italian. He hugged Feliciano and said, "That went surprisingly well."

"Ve~ what happened? Mr. Austria looked mighty upset."

"Gilbert stopped taking his shit. But I bet you are hungry. I will tell you over lunch?"

"I knew there was a reason I loved you, Luddy."


	30. Chapter 29: Consequences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alistair puts on a show, a presentation is given, and Gilbert explains a painful part of his past. Please heed the warnings in the tags.

*Friday, Lunch*

"Mattie!" Gilbert didn't slow his stride as Matthew turned a bit to look at him. He was talking to someone who was just around the corner and out of Gilbert's line of sight. Matthew smiled but he was still clearly worried as his eyes seemed to search him. Gilbert watched him smile and say something to whomever he was speaking with and start to move towards him alone.

Matthew was still smiling when they reached each other and said. "Hey, Gil. Are you hungry?"

Gilbert almost frowned in confusion but then remembered all the previous times he had been upset. Matthew hadn't pushed for him to say anything and that probably was for the best at the moment. Explaining everything was going to take time and they only had about 45 minutes left to their lunch break. He had better use that time to eat, get settled from the morning's encounters, and make sure Matthew was doing okay. He had seemed mostly fine, if a little harried when he was talking to Alistair except for when he glanced over to Gilbert. Ludwig had been right; his attempt to keep himself together was hurting Matthew.

Yes, Gilbert was well aware that Matthew would have been to first to tell him to focus on himself and that he had a right to do what he needed. But this…whatever it was between them didn't work like that, at least not for Gilbert. In order for Gilbert to be okay, he needed Matthew to be happy. The problem was, it seemed like Matthew needed for Gilbert to be well for that to happen and wasn't that the damnedest thing because Gilbert _wasn't okay_.

All things considered, he could have been worse. Yeah, Gilbert was a bit of a mess from what happened with Ivan, but he was doing much better than feared, even if he had lashed out at Roderich. He really hadn't meant to say all that and had actually intended on trying to bury the hatchet between them this weekend. Roderich had been cruel but it lead him to Matthew so he couldn't resent him for it. But after Ivan's little power play, Gilbert was in combat mode and Roderich made himself an excellent target. If he had to defend his actions, he could always say _he started it_.

He swore that he was 800 years old, not 8.

In any case, both of them needed some peace, though they still had to talk to both Francis and Alistair. After Alfred's outburst earlier (which Antonio had found _hilarious_ , by the way) and the display Matthew and Gilbert made to anyone after Yekaterina hauled her brother away, one would think the novelty of them would have worn off. There was hope that their friends would back off, at least until after the meetings for the day was over. Unlikely, but it was possible.

Gilbert answered Matthew's question with a smirk and a slight leer. He was only partially teasing when he said, "Oh, yeah. I'm _ravenous_."

Matthew's jaw went slack with shock for a moment, flush instantly appearing on his face. Then he burst out laughing and Gilbert couldn't help but grin at him, inner tension easing a bit. God, but he loved making him laugh.

Matthew gave him a light shove that made Gilbert stumble a little and said, "For _food_ , you dork."

Gilbert sighed theatrically, effect lost because he was still smiling too wide. "I suppose food will do. What do you feel like eating?" He grabbed Matthew's hand and started pulling him towards the exit.

"Alistair suggested a soup place a couple blocks over?"

Gilbert looked at him with raised eyebrows, walking beside him now. "You trust Scottie's food recommendations?"

"Not really, but it's hard to irrevocably mess up soups." Gilbert nodded.

Matthew was much more relaxed now than he had been when Gilbert saw him, but he still had a wary concern in his eyes. Gilbert didn't like that Matthew didn't seem comfortable asking him anything when he had been able to before. It was a few moments of not quite easy silence when Gilbert said quietly, "You can ask, you know."

They were outside now, Matthew's hair shinning in the sunlight a light gold. Gilbert watched as he bit his lip and looked down, hand anxiously tucking his wayward curl away and adjusting his glasses. "I didn't want to pry or intrude."

Gilbert frowned and rubbed the back of Matthew's hand, still in his. " _Liebling,_ you can always ask me something. Even if I won't be comfortable answering, I still want you to know you can ask. It wouldn't be intruding or prying, I promise."

Matthew glanced at him then away again quickly, squeezing his hand for a second. He opened his mouth only to close it, seeming to choose his words carefully. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm shaken, honestly. Ivan's a dick and I knew to expect something from him, but a lot of that still was shocking, you know? I especially couldn't have prepared for how he talked to you." Gilbert had to suppress a shudder at the memory. It had felt almost like an illness, the sudden simultaneous sensations of fire and ice that ran through his body the moment Ivan looked at Matthew like he was a target. It had only gotten worse when he opened his mouth.

"If it helps, I'm not special to him, or at least I don't think so," Matthew said, thoughtful. "I think he genuinely doesn't understand why anyone he hasn't labeled an outright enemy would not choose to be with him."

Gilbert wasn't so sure. He had been on the receiving end of Ivan's focus to know what it looked like when he actually wanted something. Gilbert had wondered why no one had seen in Matthew what he did, but maybe someone had. He let the topic slide; they had other things that needed their attention.

Gilbert made a noncommittal noise and said, "Still, I think that was the trigger for my reaction. I…I didn't hurt you, did I?"

Matthew's hand tensed in his even as he shrugged and looked to the side. "It's nothing that won't heal by tomorrow."

 _Shit_. Gilbert had meant emotionally but Matthew was talking about something else entirely. Gilbert stopped walking and dropped Matthew's hand. He felt near panicked at the thought of unthinkingly injuring him because he had had it done to him enough that he would _never..._ yet apparently he had? Because hurting someone he loved carelessly was something Ivan would do and Gilbert would never be like him, he had sworn it to himself more times than he cared to remember. Matthew turned around with a frown before immediately moving to the side of the sidewalk to get out of other pedestrians' way.

He saw that Gilbert was looking at where his hand had been earlier and Matthew's hand went to the spot immediately. "I'm _fine_ , Gil," Matthew insisted. He looked around before saying very quietly, "I've been more injured during sex with you and you know that's not _actually_ hurt."

Gilbert relaxed and moved to the side with Matthew so he could calm down. He closed his eyes because his vision had gotten the bad kind of hazy and he really didn't want Matthew to see how close he had come to another episode. Gilbert could be rough in bed, but he was always careful even at his most out of control to not hurt his partners and Matthew was no different. Hell, he was probably more careful with Matthew than he had been with any other Nation. So he closed his eyes and breathed for a moment before saying, "I'm sorry, Mattie. I shouldn't have—"

Matthew put a finger on his lips to stop him and Gilbert opened his eyes to see a fire in Matthew's. "None of that. I was happy to be there for you and I'm not hurt. You're grip on me was the only reason I didn't start an honest-to-God fist fight with Ivan then and there. We both know I would have lost but I was very close to starting one anyway."

Gilbert kissed Matthew's finger before he pulled the hand down. "Why would you do that?"

Matthew frowned harder. "Gil, I told you that no one was allowed to hurt you again. It's clear the Ivan has made a habit of it. Why wouldn't I fight him?"

"Oh. I didn't think you…" Matthew was still frowning and Gilbert suddenly didn't want to finish that sentence. The pounding of his heart had nothing to do with panic and everything to do with how Matthew, the most diplomatic person Gilbert had ever met, was willing casually fight for him like it was the only logical reaction to the situation. Fuck, maybe Ludwig had been on to something? Yeah, he had thought just a week prior that Matthew kissed him like he loved him, but Gilbert had convinced himself in the time since that he was just projecting what he wanted onto Matthew's actions. Matthew cared far more already than he could have hoped so soon; it seemed like hubris and tempting fate to think he could actually love Gilbert. After everything, it was so much more than he deserved. Gilbert cleared his throat and fell impossibly further into love with him. He said, "Thank you, Birdie. I really appreciate that, though I also would prefer that you didn't get into any fights over me."

Matthew's frown faded into wry look. "No promises, especially not if Ivan bothers you again."

Gilbert kept them moving, bumping his shoulder into Matthew a bit. "I think we are both free from Ivan's presence this weekend at the very least. Katyusha made sure of that."

Matthew looked curious. "I was wondering what she told him." He reached out to stop Gilbert from walking forward and tilted his head towards a small restaurant to their right.

The walked towards the door and Gilbert said, stepping into the cozy space, "She told him that if he didn't leave us alone, she would march right up to my brother and ask about joining the EU."

Gilbert heard Matthew's sharp intake of breath and looked over to see him deeply unnerved. "Gil, she shouldn't say things like that. From what Katyusha has said, Ivan would go to great lengths to keep that from happening. Drastic lengths, really, especially if it were true."

Gilbert shrugged. "I don't think she was serious. I just think she wanted to guarantee that he left us alone and she played on his abandonment issues to do it. She and I had been close for a while and I know she's fond of you. Katyusha doesn't like to see her friends hurting. I know she often felt bad about being helpless to stop a lot of things, so she likes to do what she can."

Matthew pursed his lips, still worried. "I know she is very caring but, Gil, I've been helping her out financially whenever I can. I think that if Katyusha was pushed far enough, she would actually try to join the EU."

That was concerning. Ivan was not good about letting things and people go and his sisters were about the only two people he had left. If he _really_ thought they were going to leave him…"Hopefully it won't come to that. Right now, I'm just grateful for a little breathing room."

"Speaking of breathing room…" Matthew said, trailing off as they were greeted by a smiling server in Swedish. Gilbert jumped in and apologized in German, Russian, and English, hoping that the young woman would understand one of them. As with the times, English won out. Matthew was visibly relieved as they ordered quickly before he continued with, "I couldn't help but notice that Roderich came up to speak to you and Ludwig. You seemed kind of…I don't know before and then he talked to you. Did he…was he…are you okay?"

"Yeah, I am. The conversation didn't go as expected but I feel good about it." Matthew looked at him skeptically and clearly wanted to ask what happened but was hesitant to do so. Gilbert took pity on him and said, "I apologized for how the aftermath of what happened was handled—"

"You did _what?_ "

"—and I thanked him for—"

" _You THANKED HIM?!"_

"—being an awful person because it meant I got to meet you and actually be happy for once."

"…Oh. That is…" Gilbert watched as Matthew swallowed his righteous anger and looked down with a blush. Gilbert let the statement hang for a moment as their drinks were brought and Matthew was smiling to himself, his expression mostly hidden from him. "I take it Roderich didn't like that?"

Gilbert shrugged. "He walked away in a huff, so I guess not. Hopefully that's the end of that. As for how I was acting, it's just a habit I fall into when I'm feeling attacked, that's all. I disconnect emotionally until I have time to deal with something. Just because I'm a mess doesn't mean that I can skip out on work; not any more, at least." Gilbert looked around the small place, looking for Alistair while Matthew avoided looking at him for a moment longer, apparently still processing what Gilbert had said. Gilbert asked, "Hey, I knew Scottie wanted to talk to both of us and I saw you together earlier. Is he not joining us?"

"Ah, he said he had to prepare for his presentation. He wanted me to pass on that he would find you later." Matthew looked at him and, for the first time in a long while, Gilbert couldn't read his expression. Then he smiled that awful, sad smile and reached out to grab his hand on the counter. He was quiet as he said, "Alistair also said you just needed some time, so that's why I didn't want to ask you anything. I-I know you've been through a lot and I want to help you any way I can. It's…I…let me know if I can do something?" Matthew deflated a bit and looked away to take a sip of his drink.

Gilbert brought Matthew's hand up to kiss and he smiled as reassuringly as possible. "Of course. I'm well enough for now. Besides, we worked hard on the damn presentation. Hell if Ivan is going to stop me from being up there with you today."

Matthew genuinely smiled at him, though it was still a little sad. Then he seemed to shake himself and said, "Sorry. Um…how did your conversation with Antonio go?"

Gilbert frowned at the apology but shrugged and said, "He was characteristically chill. Tony was happy that I was happy and thought our reactions to your brother's…volume was very funny. "

Matthew groaned to himself and said, "I am so sorry. I stopped him when I realized he wasn't going to shut up with a very effective threat and…wait, how did you react?"

Gilbert smirked at him. "I believe I said, 'Damn right, he is.'"

Matthew was staring at him in disbelief. "Let me get this straight. I was over there _mortified,_ by the way, and you were _smug_."

Gilbert shrugged, unrepentant. "I'm sorry you were embarrassed, but I'm sleeping with _you_ every night and now everyone knows you're off the market. _Of course_ I'm smug."

Matthew took his hand back, looking torn between being amused and pleased or righteously disgusted. "Your ass is going to be sleeping on the _floor_."

Even at the threat which clearly wasn't entirely empty, Gilbert was happier with the mood between them now. Matthew was clearly concerned but it wasn't bothering him as much and that made Gilbert's stress level go down. Now they just had to make it through their presentation before Gilbert had to, well wanted to actually, explain what the deal was with Ivan. He just had to take one thing at a time.

Right now, his goal was to make sure he wasn't sleeping on the floor when a perfectly nice bed with his boyfriend in it would be right there.

He pouted at him and said, "But Birdie, I'm just proud to say you're my boyfriend. Besides," he smiled briefly at their server before shooting Matthew a look that never failed to make him blush, "I'd be happy to show just how much I appreciate you later."

Matthew shot him a dirty look, but there was clear interest in his eyes. "I'd bet you would. Too bad."

They weren't in Canada anymore. That meant Gilbert had no reason not to lower his voice and detail in French how he would show his appreciation and respect if he was allowed back into Matthew's bed and bringing up that a _bed_ wasn't specifically required.

By the end, Matthew's face had been hotter than his soup (which, despite his reservations of Alistair's recommendation, was quite good) and Gilbert was told that, as far as Matthew was concerned, needn't be anywhere that wasn't their bed. (Okay, he had actually said that Gilbert shouldn't ever _not_ be in his bed, but Gilbert got the picture.)

* * *

Elizabeta prided herself on her observation skills and always being in the know. She never really noticed Canada, but when America all but shouted that he was sleeping with someone, Elizabeta automatically searched the room for who it could be, just on principle. When she saw Gilbert looking more smug than usual, she made the obvious connection and now knew where he had been off "vacationing." She had tried to corner Feliciano to get the scoop, but he had been occupied first with his brother then with Ludwig. When Elizabeta had watched Roderich storm away from Gilbert of all people, she had risen her eyebrows and mentally adjusted the relationship chart in her head. Dmitri said she was being unnecessarily nosy, but information was power and sometimes what she learned just from watching people warned her when trouble was coming.

For instance, it was strange enough to see Gilbert at one of these world meetings, but the appearance of Scotland was beyond unusual. They made a troublesome pair if her intel was right. Both were devastatingly handsome in a dangerous way and smart but impulsive. It was a combination that had Elizabeta watching them carefully (for more than one reason) and it was why she knew something was wrong.

A sudden movement out of the corner of her eye had Elizabeta shifting her gaze to where Gilbert and Ludwig sat. While her angle wasn't ideal, she could tell from Gilbert's profile and painfully straight posture that something had changed and not for the better. He was looking towards the front where Alistair was preparing to start his presentation, apparently having seen something that was alarming. Elizabeta focused forward and tried to see what had caused the change.

Alistair stood behind a podium, typing away at the laptop in front of him and fiddling with the controls for the projection screen behind him. He looked the same as before, standing tall and lean, face serious if a little…mischievous? Elizabeta narrowed her eyes and watched as Alistair's eyes quickly flashed towards Gilbert and the corner of his mouth barely twitched to form a ghost of a smirk before seeming to focus back on the device in front of him. If she hadn't been watching as closely, she would have missed it.

Elizabeta looked back to see Gilbert looking deeply unnerved as he murmured something to Ludwig and typed quickly on his phone. If Alistair got a text, he made no acknowledgement of it. Gilbert banged his hand on the table just loud enough to make it seem like an accident rather than deliberate and Alistair looked over. Gilbert moved his hands quickly in what had to be some form of sign language. Alistair made a few simple movements in response and Gilbert's jaw dropped. Alistair smirked and went back to what he was doing while Gilbert looked across the room. Elizabeta's gaze followed his and she saw Arthur lose all color on his face.

She brought her phone out and began to text blind, an expert at the practice by now. She sent a warning that something was up to Dmitri as Arthur picked up his phone like he was calling someone. Alistair pulled his phone from his suit jacket pocket and sent Gilbert a dirty look before rolling his eyes and putting his phone away. He signed something to Gilbert before ignoring him completely. Gilbert meanwhile was too pale even for someone with albinism and Ludwig seemed to be on alert, too. Elizabeta shot a quick text to Feliciano asking if he knew why whatever this was could be happening. It was a long shot but it clearly involved his brother-in-law and Ludwig would never tell her a thing.

Dmitri sent her back _what do you mean?_ Before she could answer, Alistair said, "If ye could all get out yer computers, please?"

His accent was thick but intelligible. Everyone started to open their laptops if they were not already out and Elizabeta's brain went into overdrive trying to figure out what was happening that could make Arthur _and_ Gilbert alarmed at what Alistair was doing. On instinct, she glanced over to Matthew; he was Gilbert's boyfriend and part of the British Commonwealth, so he probably knew Alistair as well. It took her a minute to focus on him, her eyes jumping over where he sat repeatedly for some reason (damn but he would have made a good spy). He seemed curious and perhaps a little anticipatory.

Matthew probably knew _why_ this was happening, though not _what_. Elizabeta had missed something vital but there was little she could do about it now. She sent a quick text to Feliciano for information and sat with her laptop open, waiting.

Alistair looked around the room and, seeing that everyone was ready, began speaking.

"Apologies if me accent is a wee bit heavy for ye but it's tha only one I've got." He smiled at everyone as some chuckles filled the room. "Captionin' software does nae always work with me, but I sent e'eryone a program for if ye wan' to use it. If nae, keep yer computers on; I'll be sendin' somethin' a bit later." He pulled up a powerpoint presentation on the projection screen simply entitled, "Protecting Yourself Online: A Hacker's Perspective."

He continued speaking. "Unless ye are particularly auld fashioned, most of what ye do takes place on a device with access to tha internet. Both classified an' personal documents are created an' stored on computers. Money is digital an' communication is a code. Noo do nae get me wrong; I love tha modern age an' ken that we have collectively gained more than we've lost. Ye all 'ave probably been told many-a-time to watch yerselves and yer information online. However, I recently was contacted by an anonymous source about how much many of ye are utterly _failing_ at it."

A ripple of murmurs went through the room as Alistair watched worry spread with a look of satisfaction before continuing. "Noo that I have ye attention, let's look at some facts." The slide changed and he said, "Fact: for those of ye with the lowest level of security, it took me source a mere 15 minutes ta access yer personal files and only 10 minutes more ta get every classified document on yer desktops. Me mate is a good person and decided ta _nae_ hack yer networks, but they made it clear they coul' 'ave. Said somethin' about how it was nae fun anymore.

"Noo, before ye all panic, only about 15% of ye fell into tha' category. The rest of ye clearly had tha good sense ta protect yer computers, or at least yer work files, wit yer bosses' security measures. Still, a great deal of yer files could still be hacked into remotely wit effort. Only about 10 nations had frustratingly (for me source, tha' is) impenetrable firewalls." The slide changed to show the list of computers Alistair's "source" couldn't breach at all. A thrill of panic when through Elizabeta as her name wasn't on the list. In fact, the only European nations on there were Vash, Nikolas, and Ivan.

A stunned silence descended on the room, each nation no doubt wondering where their personal computers fell on Alistair's security scale. After a moment, Alistair began to speak with a serious tone, "This is a frighteningly low figure. Our existence needs ta be kept secret and tha fact tha'—"

"How do we know you aren't bluffing?" Alfred's voice cut through Alistiar's, indignant and outraged. His name was not on the list. "I mean, like, you're saying that all of our personal files and shit are just out there, expecting us to believe that almost everyone is vulnerable. But you have shown absolutely no proof. I refuse to believe that most of our computers are not safe."

Alistair looked steadily at him and slowly smirked. Elizabeta fought the urge to bang her head against the table as groans filled the room. Arthur, clearly exasperated and mildly horrified, said, "Oh, my _God_ , Alfred! Why the _fuck_ would you give my brother the excuse to—"

"I reckoned that someone would have doubted me," Alistair said, smug. "Even guessed it would be you, Alfie. Why do ye think I asked everyone to take out their laptops at tha beginning?"

Alfred went between flushing a bright red to looking faint, leaving his face blotchy. Alistair froze the projection screen and went about typing something on his computer. Despite the general tension in the air, Elizabeta was not the only one to turn their attention to their computers with morbid interest. Arthur, sounding panicked, said, "Look, Alistair, forget Alfred. We believe you when you say we need to up our security. Whatever you found on his computer doesn't need to—"

A sharp sound cut through the room, originating at Alfred's computer. Everyone turned their heads to see Alfred hunch over the screen and read something. All color drained from his face and he said, "I believe you. You don't have to…"

"Exhibit A, everyone."

The picture that flashed on screen was obviously a selfie. It was also clearly meant to be private. While not X-rated, it was certainly suggestive. _Good Lord_ , Elizabeta thought, heat rushing to her face. She heard Kiku have a discrete coughing fit and Vash give a shout of surprise as he moved to cover Lilli's eyes (she batted his hands away; Lilli was an adult for fuck's sake). Arthur looked like he was going to faint and Matthew was aggressively covering his eyes. _Looks like Vash isn't the only one with a gun kink._

Contrary to everyone else's reactions, Alfred relaxed and gave an audible sigh of relief. " _Whew_ , you had me scared for a second there, dude. At least you picked a good picture." Both Matthew and Arthur looked at him in horror. Alfred opened his mouth to say something else but Matthew quickly moved to cover his mouth, effectively muffling him.

Alistair lifted an eyebrow at him before shrugging and said, "It was tha least incriminatin' of tha lot sent ta me. But this is only one picture, hardly proof of any real danger. Exhibit B, however, is more helpful."

Alistair minimized the presentation and inserted a flash drive titled "Au Encrypted." He said, "Tha followin' files were taken from one of tha moderately protected computers tha' had password protected files and a decent firewall. I am nae goin' to display any government files tha' were sent ta me, but enough that ye all should understand. This drive contains only the files of one nation; there are many more like it."

Even as a woman well versed in information gathering, Elizabeta was impressed by what Alistair's "source" had managed to uncover. While he never stated which nation the files belonged to, it became clear both from the content and the sharp gasp of recognition that they belonged to Roderich. In quick succession, Austria's internet history, downloaded files, and electronic diary entries from the past year flashed across the screen, never long enough to do anything but hint at the contents. Even the hints were telling.

As one of the first ones to figure out that the files belonged to her ex-husband, Elizabeta had the privilege of watching embarrassment, outrage, and fear shape his expression. She also saw when he apparently received a private message, from Alistair if the look Roderich shot towards the front said anything.

Alistair, meanwhile, continued to look and act professional, as if this was just another part of his presentation and not what Elizabeta was beginning to suspect as very personal indeed. Oh yes, she was missing something huge.

Something that apparently had to do with Gilbert who was sitting there, shell shocked and a little horrified. Ludwig, on the other hand looked highly approving and Francis and Antonio were grinning like loons.

The most surprising and informative reaction, however, came from Matthew. The man who was so polite and quiet that Elizabeta usually forgot he existed, seemed to be barely holding on to his composure. Between Alfred's looking confused at him and Matthew's shaking shoulders and wide eyes, it was all he could do to keep from falling out with laughter.

Alistair, after proving that he had received _extensive_ access to Roderich's computer, went back to his presentation and began proposing steps that almost everyone could take to better protect themselves. Elizabeta wasn't listening, far more concerned with (A) what files of hers Alistair might have and (B) what the hell Roderich could have done to Gilbert to elicit such a response. Not that she cared about that last. Of course not. She was just curious and didn't care about Gilbert at all. Sure, she might have felt a little protective of the asshole, especially after…but not _that_ much. As far as she was concerned, this presentation was put together for the sole purpose of giving a legitimate reason to get revenge on Roderich in a very public matter, meaning that her everyone's privacy was violated in order to make this work. Alistair seemed like the type to burn everything down to avenge someone he loved and she couldn't really fault the impulse. _But yet_.

Her email pinged (along with several other computers) with a new message from Alistair and her focus was redirected back to him. He was saying, "…most of ye all a copy of a contract I've signed to destroy any records of your hacked files as soon as possible and a promise not to blackmail ye about anything me source presented ta me about ye. Feel free ta look over it and talk ta me if you have any concerns. Noo, are there any questions? Ah, yes, Arthur?"

"Er, when are you going to send out the contracts?"

Alistair grinned at him, wide and mischievous. "Already did. If ye did nae receive a contract, it was either because me source could nae hack ye files or ye know why. As fer ye, Arthur, yer me brother; _of course_ I'm going ta blackmail ye."

Most people seemed satisfied with this, though Arthur looked miserable. Several more nations had technical questions about methods of protection and it was decided a subcommittee with more tech-literate nations were going to work to make basic security standards for everyone. After a few minutes, however, a voice cut through the room, angry and indignant.

"Who is your source and how did they know everyone's identity well enough to hack their computers?"

It was a good question, but Elizabeta winced as Roderich delivered it. If it had been anyone else, Elizabeta could believe that Alistair would have maybe answered or at least provided some sort of explanation. She was curious as to the source, partially out of a desire to hire them, but she was also coming to seriously suspect that Alistair himself was the hacker. He seemed like the type to prefer a more personal touch to revenge and he was certainly not lacking in intelligence. As it was, Alistair turned his cold gaze to Roderich and sneered at him. "I bet ye would like ta know. Obviously, I am nae going to tell ye who did the research out of respect for their wishes and safety, not to mention they work for me. Unlike some, I still have honor and I am highly loyal ta me people."

Oh yes, Roderich had _definitely_ done something to Gilbert. All told, Elizabeta thought that Roderich should be counting his blessings that he got off this easily.

The tension stretched between them, not quite breaking when Berwald stepped in. "Er, 'ank you fer yer presen'ation, Al'stair. Are there an' mo'ions on the floor?"

As usual, Feliciano called out, "Motion for a recess, ve~."

Surprisingly, it was Arthur who called out, "Seconded."

Berwald shrugged. "All 'n fa'or?" A cacophony of _aye_ s filled the room. "Mo'ion fer a ten minute recess g'anted."

The room erupted into sound as people began talking to their neighbors or placing calls home to vent about their security. Elizabeta headed over to Dmitri, brushing a hand along his neck in greeting as she said, "I told you so."

He looked up at her, hematite eyes bright. "So you did, my love." Dmitri grabbed her hand and brushed a kiss along the sensitive skin of her wrist. "What do you think happened?"

Elizabeta smiled at him and opened her mouth to speak only to frown as Alfred's voice rose amidst the crowd. She turned her head to see him relatively close by talking to a confused and highly unamused Roderich. "Bullshit. I'll ask you again: what the fuck did you do to my brother?"

Roderich tossed his hands in the air, exasperated, "I don't even _know_ your brother. I doubt I have ever spoken more than a few words to him at a time."

"I don't buy it. Mattie is the most kind-hearted person I know and he _hates_ you. So, you've had to have done something to him."

"Look, you idiot, I have done absolutely nothing to your brother. In fact, it took me a minute to remember who you were even talking about; that is how little I know him."

Elizabeta pursed her lips and finally answered her husband. "I don't know…" Her eyes sought Feliciano who was, surprisingly, talking to both Matthew and Lovino. "…but I am going to find out."

* * *

Matthew took a deep breath and tried to focus on going over the facts in his head one last time while Gilbert fiddled around with the computer. There weren't many to go over.

"Hey." Matthew looked over to see Gilbert smiling at him. His expression was soft as his voice when he said, "You know this is going to be fine, right? We're just posing a few questions then we can go sit down."

"Yeah, I know," Matthew sighed, running a hand through his too-long hair.

"Awesome. Here, I have something for you." Matthew frowned at him as Gilbert stepped closer and pinned something on his lapel. He squinted down and saw that he was now adorned with a small microphone. He raised his eyebrows with a question. Gilbert just shrugged at him. "I asked for one because I wanted to make sure everyone could hear you."

"Thank you, Gil." Matthew hadn't really thought about it, a little convinced that even if people could hear him they wouldn't listen. He thought Gilbert was just going to talk when people appeared to not be listening or started looking through him. Or at least, that's what he had been planning on asking him to do when then inevitably happened. "That was really thoughtful of you. I'll, um, do a sound check then?"

"Anytime and sure, we're about ready to go here."

Matthew felt really awkward doing the check on the microphone, especially considering that no one else had needed one. It wasn't made any better by how obscenely loud the thing was when he turned it on. Matthew wasn't the only one who jumped at the sound of his voice echoing through the room. He apologized softly before looking for the controls. Of course, it was turned to full volume and just happened to be with all the other controls for the electronics. Matthew squinted his eyes at Gilbert suspiciously who shrugged and tried to look clueless, but he was clearly fighting a smirk and his eyes were too full of mirth. When Matthew raised his eyebrows at him, not too keen on speaking when he was attached to a very sensitive microphone, Gilbert gave up the ghost and grinned.

Matthew turned off the microphone to whisper, "You're lucky you're cute."

"You love it."

 _I love you_. Matthew rolled his eyes and turned down the volume. The second check was much better and they were ready to go. His nerves returned but weren't as bad as before. He felt Gilbert's hand on his back and looked over to see a reassuring smile on his face. Right, things were going to be fine. Matthew took a deep breath and began.

"Excuse me? We're ready to start."

Alfred called out, being a dick, "I bet you—"

"My threat stands, Alfred." Matthew said coldly not wanting to deal with this right now. He felt Gilbert startle next to him but paid it no mind. "Please feel free to finish that sentence when I have everyone's attention and a microphone." When silence followed, Matthew smiled and continued. "Great. We will try to make this brief, everyone; I'm sure you would like to be done for the day."

Gilbert jumped in with, "But this is important, important enough that I decided to show up to one of these things after years." The _so, pay attention_ was unspoken.

Matthew fought a smile for a second before sobering and said, "I don't know about everyone else, but both of us were told at a young age to avoid contact with a large number of humans. I thought it was just because our existence was supposed to be a secret and it would be weird if you kept not aging when the average life expectancy was around thirty. I was never told differently."

"Nor was I. I also wasn't one to follow the rules, big shocker there." Matthew glanced over to see Gilbert rolling his eyes at the smattering of scoffs throughout the room. "I didn't see the harm in it. I moved around enough that I doubted many people could have made the connection that I wasn't aging and I led the military on numerous occasions. Most importantly, however, I loved being around my people and still do, the bigger the crowd, the better. But in the past few weeks, we both have discovered that it wasn't as innocuous as I thought."

Matthew looked back out at the room and saw more than one person looking at them, no, _Gilbert_ strangely. He frowned but continued, "We all know that our population's feelings effect our own. For some reason, I don't think anyone made the connection that it goes both ways." Nations turned to give him startled looks and Matthew had to fight the sudden urge not to hide. He was happy they were seeing him, he just wasn't used to so many people _looking_.

Behind the podium, Gilbert squeezed his hand. Matthew cleared his throat and squeezed back gently. He ignored the heat rising to his face as he kept talking. "We believe that if Nations are experiencing strong emotions around a large group of their people, then the group becomes infected with the feeling, losing control of themselves and causing them to act differently."

"The most obvious example of this is anger. Matthew does not get angry often, but the one time I saw him become enraged in public, I started to notice things. The longer people were around him, the more intense the frenzy became. I had thought it was just a general feeling until I noticed several people in the crowd oscillating between confusion and rage. The minute I distracted Matthew, the near riotous crowd calmed."

Matthew hated to hear about that night and what could have happened, but they had agreed that it was necessary to demonstrate the seriousness of the situation. Gilbert had been steadily rubbing his hand while he spoke, aware of how the entire incident upset him. He was immensely grateful for it as he said, "After that, we decided to do some research." Matthew displayed a chart on the screen that had nearly broken him to make. "After going over the major riots that took place in my country since 1900, it turns out that I was present at around 80% of them."

"On a smaller scale, some of you that have known me for several hundred years can attest to the fact that nearly every time I was in a human pub, the night ended in a bar fight. I had thought it was just part of the culture—"

"Gil, you started _at least_ a quarter of those!" Francis interjected.

"—But now it looks like my presence may have been enough to start them."

Gilbert glared at Francis for a moment as Matthew said, "Some of you received calls from one of us in the past week, asking about major domestic disturbances. Of the people we have asked, almost all of them recalled being present at major riots or strikes that ended in violence. But this goes much further than simple anger. Through…a series of accidents, we found out that other emotions can affect our people, too."

"We also figured out that not only is the infection of emotion nuanced, but it does not need to be outwardly expressed by the Nation to spread. In our first example, Matthew was angry about a hockey game—" Alfred snorted, earning a glare from Matthew "—but _so was everyone else_. With all the anger that was in the room, no fights broke out for any other reason. Furthermore, through those accidents, we think that only people situationally predisposed to sharing the exact nature of the emotion are effected."

"The problem with the situation is that there is so much we just don't _know_. We can't know without running experiments on live human subjects and intentionally infecting them with strong emotions. Not only is this frankly unethical but it brings in a question of authenticity of the emotions and whether or not this can be done purposefully. We don't know how large the group must be to be infected, to what extent they are effected, or if there are any preconditions either on the Nation's part or the humans' for this to be a problem." Matthew had started walking around while he was speaking, the agitation in his movements displaying his frustration with the state of things.

Matthew glanced over and saw Gilbert looking at him funny before he said, "The rest of this presentation just goes over some suggestions we came up with not only for methods of understanding but also precautions we can take until all of us understand it a bit more."

It took them about ten more minutes to go through their theories and suggestions that they had been working on the week prior. When they were finished, they opened the floor up to questions. It didn't take long for a subcommittee to be formed to address this issue that would be convened tomorrow, leaving Matthew relieved that people seemed just as alarmed over this as he was.

They were just finishing up when Matthew saw a hand raised towards the back. He carefully blanked his face to a pleasantly neutral expression as he said, "Yes, Austria?" He suppressed a wince at how awkward that was, considering he had been calling everyone else by their human names.

"Would you mind explaining this 'accident' to which you kept alluding?"

Matthew immediately tensed up. He and Gilbert had both agreed that explaining to a room full of people that he had been so turned on in public that it affected humans was not something they were interested in. Matthew was hoping that no one would ask about it since they had dropped numerous hints during their presentation that it wasn't going to be explained. Clearly, some people had picked up on it if the gaping mouths of the most polite countries were anything to go by. Yet, here they were.

Matthew cleared his throat again and adjusted his glasses. "It's personal."

"I gathered," Roderich said, clearly unimpressed. "However, wouldn't it be pertinent to make sure we have all the information before thinking about this? We should know the types and extent of emotional reactions you observed during this 'accident' in order to better come up with a solution."

Matthew was staring at him now, torn between embarrassment and outrage. It didn't help that he made a good point. Matthew just _so_ didn't want to do this and—

"No."

Matthew whipped his head around to look at Gilbert who was staring impassively at Roderich, who said, "What do you mean, 'no?'"

"I mean _no_ , Roderich. Matthew has awesomely volunteered enough information about his personal matters to sketch the problem and has no obligation to do more. To answer your question, _yes_ , we would very much so mind explaining and will not be doing it." Gilbert was glaring by the end of it, his tone no longer neutral but subtly _pissed off_.

A heavy silence fell on the room which Matthew broke by saying, "Thank you, Gil. Are there any more questions?"

* * *

It was time. Gilbert knew that he had put it off enough, far too long if his brother's pointed looks meant what he thought they did. His avoidance had gotten him through his first day back to actual work, pushed him through a brilliant presentation that still had people talking, and kept him from entertaining thoughts of throttling Ivan (for existing) and Roderich ( _no one_ goes after Matthew which he had clearly tried to do). Well, entertaining _too_ seriously, perhaps; what's a little violent fanaticizing when it's just in one's mind?

Still, the fact that Matthew still didn't know what happened during his time as the GDR weighed on him, pressing harder every time Matthew snuck concerned glances his way when he thought he wasn't paying attention. Matthew had smiled his way through Nations coming up to bounce ideas off him and through dinner, ever the polite, kind person who tried to give whomever he was speaking to the attention he would have wanted in return. But his eyes were distracted and his expressions didn't radiate their usual sincerity. Matthew was going to worry but was not going to push, would never push him to talk about it and that just made Gilbert feel worse.

Why hadn't he just bitten the bullet and explained the night before like he had meant to? He had told himself that Matthew was too tired and was already nervous about their presentation to worry him. Maybe Ivan wouldn't have been an issue so the topic would have been avoided all together or if something did come up, he would be able to control his reactions. Yeah, right.

In retrospect, it was probably a good thing he didn't explain everything before; Matthew would have killed (or tried to kill) Ivan if his earlier reaction was anything to go on. It had never occurred to Gilbert that Matthew would literally fight for him. As it was, explaining why nothing could be done was going to be interesting. It was a fact he was resigned to, that Ivan would never deal with consequences for what he put Gilbert through. Somehow, he doubted Matthew would be okay with that.

At this point, especially after what happened earlier, it felt like lying by omission, not just sitting down and explaining everything. Admittedly, very few people knew the whole story but Matthew was one of the most important people in his life. Gilbert loved him. It felt wrong that Matthew was missing such a huge part of his story, when he had managed to at least mention all other parts of his history over the past month.

Gilbert was going to tell him about the Wall. All he had to do now was wait until they were alone.

Unfortunately, they kept getting delayed. Alfred had waylaid him to give him a frankly menacing _hurt him and you die horribly but you have my blessing_ talk and, strangely, to exchange contact information. Then Alfred managed to steal Matthew away for drinks by looping an arm around his shoulders and forcing him to go off to do some brotherly bonding. Gilbert spent the down time trying to get his brother to say whether or not he thought Matthew loved him only stopping when Ludwig started yelling at him to let it go before buying him a beer. Alistair appeared out of nowhere which led to a short, quiet conversation that mainly consisted of Gilbert saying _what the hell?_ and Alistair shrugging with _you would have done the same and also go talk to your boyfriend_.

After that, Gilbert had retired to the hotel room, texting Matthew his location. He was torn between wanting to be completely sober for this conversation and _desperately_ wanting to be buzzed so that the words would flow freely and maybe the memories wouldn't hurt as much. By the time he unhappily decided to not imbibe copious amounts of alcohol, Matthew texted that he was on his way back after finally breaking free of his brother. Gilbert doubted it would take him long to get back so he did small things to make himself comfortable. He took off his shoes and tie and undid the top two buttons of his shirt. He felt restless, like a low thrum of nervous energy was running under his skin and he knew he couldn't stay still. He began to pace but only completed seven and a half circuits before he heard the lock disengage and Matthew walked into the room looking a little harassed but relieved.

He said, voice a little louder than usual, "Hey, angel. Sorry I just disappeared on you. Once Alfred really sets his mind to something it takes drawing blood to get out of it and apparently his mind was set on trying to get me drunk to celebrate a job well done. It didn't work, mostly because I secretly switched my drinks to mocktails after the first three, but he tried." Matthew huffed out a breath, making his wayward curl fly up before removing his tie. He drifted over to Gilbert and smiled.

Gilbert didn't know how to go about starting the conversation but he was helpless against the urge to return his smile and kiss him in greeting. "It's alright, Birdie," he assured him. "There's nothing to forgive."

Matthew froze and frowned at him for a second before tracing a line between his eyebrows. Quiet now, he asked, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I just…I wanted to talk to you, but it's not urgent."

Matthew gave him a scrutinizing look that quickly became concerned. "Gil, does this have to do with what happened earlier? Are you feeling okay?"

"Yes, to both of you questions." Gilbert reached out and tucked some of Matthew's hair behind his ear. He was still anxious, but he suddenly felt tired, no, weary. He closed his eyes briefly as he felt his age only to open them as Matthew hugged him.

"You don't look okay, Gil," Matthew said into his neck. "You look sad."

Gilbert didn't know what to say to that, so he returned the embrace before pulling away. He led Matthew to sit on the bed and wordlessly urged him to get comfortable. Matthew didn't say anything back and didn't move. He just watched Gilbert, worry plain on his face, as the other leaned against the desk across from him and let out a sigh.

After a moment, Gilbert said, "Before I begin, I want to say a few things. First, I'm telling you this because I want you to know, not out of obligation. I wasn't intentionally hiding anything before, but I rarely bring it up because I have two decades of practice at not thinking about it."

Matthew looked pained. "Gil, you don't—"

"Please, Mattie, don't. If you say anything I might stop and I honestly don't know when I'll be able to start again. Please."

There was a long moment where they looked at each other, Gilbert tired and pleading and Matthew searching for…something Gilbert couldn't begin to guess at. Finally, he said, "Okay."

Gilbert slumped a little in relief only to tense again because this next part was going to hurt. "Thank you. Second, I want to ask you not to treat me any differently once you know or at least try. I'm still the same person and I…really love what we have and I know you can't make any promises but if what I'm going to say made you stop…But if you don't want to keep…well I would under—"

Gilbert had been looking at the ground as he spoke, unable to look at Matthew as he gave him an out to their relationship. The thought of Matthew treating him differently or, worse, _leaving him_ after this, _because_ of this was incredibly painful. He was startled as Matthew suddenly cut him off with a hard kiss. He hadn't even noticed him moving, yet he found himself with an armful of Canadian. It was impossible not to respond to the hard insistent kiss and by the time Matthew pulled away they were both short of breath.

Matthew kept his gentle grip on Gilbert's hair and looked outraged and…heartbroken? He sounded sad as he said, "Sweetheart, there is very little you could tell me that would ever make me turn away from you and _whatever_ Ivan did to you is not on that list, I can guarantee it. If I treat you any differently, it will only be with more care, I promise. Okay?"

Gilbert's mouth was suddenly dry and he had to clear his throat to get out, "Okay."

Matthew kissed him once more than pulled away to go back to his seat but not before Gilbert caught the look in his eye. He had only seen that cold rage once before from Matthew, but he recognized it. "One more thing: you can't go after Ivan."

Matthew froze, hands fisted at his sides. "What?"

Gilbert walked forward and took Matthew's hand. He kissed it then worked to relax the fist. "You can't go to war, personal or otherwise, over this." _Over me_.

"Wars have been fought over less, Gil," Matthew whispered, his fist loosening in Gilbert's hands. "Anyone who made you feel like that deserves it."

 _Jesus_. "I really appreciate that, _Liebling_ , but nothing can be done. Don't you think West would have done something by now if there was? Or Scottie?"

Matthew was quiet for a second before he signed and said, "I don't feel comfortable making a promise like that before I know what happened. I'll consider it seriously and we can talk afterwards about it, okay?"

 _Shit._ Matthew was not going to like what he heard, but it was reasonable and the best he would get for now. "Yeah, thank you." Gilbert squeezed Matthew's hand before going back to the desk. He had stalled long enough but there was so much. Where to begin?

 _The beginning, of course._ (A/N: WARNINGS GO INTO EFFECT HERE)

Once he had settled, he took a deep breath and began to speak in a low voice. "By…the end of 1944, my army was retreating back through Eastern Europe. I don't remember 95% of the journey because I was dying." Matthew made a small noise of distress and gripped the edge of the bed, but made no further move to get up or speak. Gilbert kept going.

"When we were still in Russia, I had taken a gunshot wound to the chest that wasn't healing like it should. I had apparently lost a great deal of blood that made me lose consciousness and fall into a coma. I'm told that I was healing human slow and not only had manage to contract an infection but influenza. By the time I woke up it was March, 1945, and we had lost."

"I was willing to get up but Ludwig had told me no. He actually begged me to rest and get better, the first time I had ever seen him do so. By that point, Feliciano had left us, Kiku's capital was being bombed to hell, and Bonn had been taken. There wasn't a point in fighting anymore, he had said. The two months of bed rest after waking left me with a lot of time to think. I had received reports of what had happened and what was happening, what the war had cost, and I started thinking that there never was a point worth all that. The fact that my coward of a boss committed suicide, leaving Ludwig and I to face the consequences of his orders, only drove the thought home.

"By the time we officially surrendered and the occupation began, I was mostly healed. I wasn't awake to see what most of the Red Army did on the way to Berlin, but I had heard about it. Ludwig, on the other hand, had listened to real-time reports and was terrified that I was to be sent to Ivan. At that point, I was happy it was me and not him. My brother had suffered more than I thought possible and I had hoped that the Western Allies would balance each other out. More than that, I had seen what my army had done in Russia; I didn't want Ludwig anywhere near Ivan.

"1945 to '47, well. Let's just say I figured out that once you start screaming, it's very hard to stop.

"By the time I was called before the Allied Control Council, I was _really_ hoping that they had figured out a way to kill a healthy Nation. I had been healing at regular speed for the preceding 18 months or so, something that was _not_ to my advantage by the way—" Gilbert had said that part flippantly, able to joke about it now after so long and because he knew what came after, but Matthew was not amused. Despite the fact that he had tried to put on a blank face the moment he mentioned the occupation, his eyes started to betray how upset and horrified he was. Gilbert winced, suddenly realizing that if he had heard Matthew joking about actually wanting to die, he would be horrified, too. He cleared his throat at the thought.

"Sorry. Um…right. Even after spending such time with Ivan and his army, I still had my spirit. I was able to stand tall at the tribunal and stare each of them down. If that was the last time I was going to see my enemies, I wanted them to know that they didn't break me.

"The vote was unanimous for dissolution, officially wiping my country off the map. While that had hurt, I was unharmed physically. I don't know who was more surprised, them or me. The only person relieved that nothing had happened was West. I had been looking at the meeting as a light at the end of the tunnel, that if I could just stay sane until then, I wouldn't have to worry anymore. I didn't understand but Ivan did.

"For days after that, I was on edge, confined to my prison and constantly alert for the next round of now endless torture. I didn't know about the line being drawn between your brother and Ivan and even if I did, I doubt I would have grasped the implications. The first changes I felt were not direct, but through my people. Between the outrage and confusion at what was happening, I began feeling a righteous patriotism to an ideal that I had spent literally a century despising. The next time I was taken before Ivan and his boss, I was made to understand."

He didn't know quite how to describe what happened next, how he felt himself slipping away and like there was a hungry void just on the other side (of what, he didn't know) that would swallow him if he let his guard down and one day how he just stopped caring if it did. He thought, and a line from a movie he had seen earlier that year came to him. That was the last time he had been forcibly reminded of those years, the unexpectedness of it triggering an episode in the middle of a crowded movie theater, causing him to retreat to the bathroom for fifteen minutes. Despite feeling nauseous at the thought of returning, he had forced himself back into his seat to finish the film, refusing to let his past control him more than it already did. His mind supplied, with perfect clarity, _do you know what it's like to be unmade?_

"Gil?"

Gilbert's eyes focused back on Matthew, seeing him with one foot on the ground, ready to walk over to him. From his expression, Gilbert guessed that he had lost a minute or so in thought. He coughed a bit and tried to recall what he had probably looked like in those moments. He winced. In all honesty, he was impressed Matthew still hadn't said anything at his request, especially with the way he was reacting. He took a deep breath and resorted to his usual blank face.

Gilbert forced himself to slouch and smirk, but his voice was as flat as he could make it as he continued. "Sorry. As I was saying, I began to understand that a new nation was forming and that nation was me. The process must have started immediately after occupation began, but it was only in '47 that I realized what was happening.

"As the German Democratic Republic, especially under Ivan's then boss, Stalin, certain things were…expected of me. I was meant to be a communist state; I was not allowed to have a self separate from the USSR. The process to make that ideal a reality for me was protracted and painful. Every day, I was forced live rhetoric and carry out demands. Every day, I felt a bit of myself slip away and I prayed that I had gone insane and that that wasn't reality. I had to stop praying when they found out about it because it wasn't allowed. The very last thing anyone wanted to do was go against orders because dissidents were not tolerated. I thought that I had lost everything before then. I was _wrong_. So wrong. I can't begin to describe how—" Gilbert cut himself off, knowing he had said too much already. He was staring at the floor now, smirk gone and mouth pinched at the memories. He looked up at Matthew to see his lips parted in shock and his eyes shining with tears. Gilbert looked away again. If he kept seeing how upset Matthew was, he would never finish this story. He hadn't gotten to the worst of it yet; he still had sixty years to get through.

"By the time the split between West and I became official, I had stopped fighting the brainwashing and just went through the day to day. I wasn't happy, but the arraignment looked permanent and I had reached the limits of my sanity. I grew numb to everything and just existed in a constant state of exhaustion, living someone else's plan.

"Things started to change in 1953. Stalin finally died and the process to try to undo his suffocating control began. I had forgotten what it was to be my own person, to have thoughts and feelings that weren't Moscow sanctioned. It took a year or so and the control came back after Elizabeta's bid towards a little more autonomy, but I had found myself again. I was still not free but I wasn't a puppet anymore. I started to visit West and some friends. My visits were monitored and short, but it was enough to keep me, me.

"When the Wall started to go up in '61, I wasn't concerned. It was a little thing then and the restrictions were easy to ignore for the most part. But they got worse. It only took a few years for my visits to go from limited to non-existent. After that, it didn't take long for me to feel lonely. It was only intensified by the growing frustration and dissatisfaction of most of my population. They were increasingly aware that they were constantly being watched, that things could be different, better, but had no reason to think things would change. Things had been bad before, particularly in 1960 for other reasons, but after it got worse.

"I…please, understand, Matthew, but I'm not built for being alone. My ability to handle isolation for extended periods of time dissipated once I started taking care of Ludwig. I couldn't see anyone to the west and I had no friends to the east. They remembered what my people and I had done and couldn't move past it. They were civil towards me but had no reason to tolerate me beyond work and a general sense of community. I didn't, and still don't, blame them for it but it meant I had no one."

"I understand," Matthew said quietly. Shit, he probably did. Gilbert looked at him and saw that he was still upset, but he was clearly empathetic as well.

Gilbert smiled a little at him and said, "I know you do, _Schätzchen._ You handled it much better than I did." Matthew frowned and made a move towards him. Gilbert tensed and Matthew froze.

"Sorry, sorry. It's just, if you hug me now, I'll never be able to finish this. And I—I don't think anyone touching me now would be a good idea." The thing was, Gilbert _desperately_ wanted to be wrapped around him, to breathe in his scent and gain that soul deep feeling of _home_. But that was exactly why he couldn't let that happened. With what was in the forefront of his mind right now, Gilbert would either fall apart in his arms or flinch away from him. Neither was a good option at the moment.

Matthew seemed very much like he wanted to protest, but he nodded and settled back in his seat, looking more apprehensive than before. Gilbert let out a shaky breath but didn't relax. He could have just started with this, but he had been trying to work up to it. It needed context, anyway, but he also didn't want to say anything more. Yet, he hadn't actually explained anything that happened today, which was the entire fucking point of this conversation and…oh, shit. Matthew looked like he was about to ask him to stop. So, he started.

"If I was watched closely, Ivan was under a microscope. It wasn't until the mid-50s that he started hinting that he wanted to sleep with me, though I think that was mostly to feel out how his bosses would react. Once he decided he wasn't afraid of them anymore, he would just start asking. It wasn't every time that we saw each other in my territory and it wasn't obvious, but it was there. I was my own person again by then and had the ability to say no. He seemed angry every time but did nothing about it.

"Then the ban on my visits went into effect and I was craving human contact. I knew that my letters were censored and that my calls were deliberately diverted half the time. I wasn't allowed to have relationships with humans outside of work and I was getting desperate. I tried to keep myself occupied but there were so many hours of me just thinking. Eventually, I got around to asking myself why I was in that situation and the only answer I could come up with was that it was entirely my fault and I deserved it. The calls stopped and the letters became less frequent and I started to think that no one wanted to talk to me, that they were busy being happy without me. None of this was good for my mental state and my no's became less sure."

Gilbert remembered how Ivan had crowded him after they carried out their order to invade Prague and mentioned off-hand that Gilbert's government had decriminalized adult homosexuality. Unlike Gilbert, Ivan had relished in their task and seemed high on adrenaline after he followed Gilbert back to his house in Berlin and asked as soon as the door was closed behind them. He remembered getting pushed against that door then being fucked against it after far too little preparation. He remembered waking up the next morning to burning pain and an empty bed. He remembered crying when he realized how low he had sunk and that he would do it again in a heartbeat just to be close to someone and to feel less worthless. Gilbert remembered everything.

What he said was: "In 1968, I said yes."

* * *

Ivan was a dead man.

Matthew sat there, fighting every cell in his body telling him to go over to Gilbert and comfort him, to say _stop, you don't have to do this, please._ He knew there was so much Gilbert wasn't saying and it hurt him to know even a hint of what he had suffered. Everything Gilbert had said was a point in favor of going after Ivan and his last utterance was all Matthew needed to know.

Matthew was sure he didn't know the whole of it, but the way he spoke about saying yes to something that, if done right, should have been enjoyable and uplifting. Instead, Gilbert words betrayed shame and deep-seated pain. Matthew could guess at what happened, but he had a feeling it wouldn't hold a candle to what actually did. He wouldn't ask because he never wanted to put Gilbert in a position where he felt like he had to relay painful, personal information to him. Matthew had enough of an issue with why Gilbert felt like he had to tell him and don't even get him started about how his boyfriend had thought whatever he said would turn him away like he was tainted goods or something equally ridiculous and heartbreaking. Ivan had clearly manipulated Gilbert and had taken advantage of him, which was enough to get his ass kicked because _Jesus fuck_! All he wanted to do was wrap Gilbert in blankets and make him feel safe, comfortable and loved, and to help him forget that so many bad things had happened. Then, he wanted to go and literally rip Ivan limb from limb. And Gilbert wasn't done yet. He wasn't nearly done.

By some miracle, Matthew was able to do as Gilbert had repeatedly asked and sat there quietly while he watched Gilbert rip his heart out just to give Matthew information. But if Gilbert was strong enough to tell him, then Matthew respected him enough to trust his limits and to listen to him. Gilbert continued to stare a hole in the floor as he kept talking.

"The first time we were together wasn't that bad. He left without a word after and I didn't hear from him for a few weeks, but I didn't contact him either. I was ashamed that I gave into him, but it didn't help the loneliness I felt. After a while, I wanted him back because he seemed to want me and that seemed to help. But I kept expecting that he would ask me again. When he didn't, even when we were in similar situations to before, what was left of my self-confidence disappeared. I had figured that he didn't want me anymore and my pride didn't let me ask him at first. About four months after that first night, I asked him if he wanted to go back to my place. He seemed smug when he said yes, and the rest is history."

That told Matthew nothing and everything. It said that Ivan deliberately waited until Gilbert felt that he wanted him enough to ask, that he didn't give a damn about how he made Gilbert feel as long as he got what he wanted, and that Gilbert had blamed (still blamed?) himself. What it didn't tell him was what actually happened or how Gilbert had dealt with most of it. Matthew half hoped that Gilbert would stop putting himself through this and leave it at that, but he knew that wouldn't happen. His love was no quitter and, while he might not give details, he wouldn't stop until he felt he had explained enough.

Gilbert scoffed sardonically and proved Matthew right. He looked at him briefly before focusing on the space over his left shoulder and said, "But that doesn't say much, does it? We had had sex with each other for two decades, but we were never in a relationship. Or at least, he wasn't. Ivan made it very clear that, while I belonged to him, I had no claim to speak of. He didn't acknowledge me as anyone special in public unless someone seemed interested. Whenever that happened, he would herd me away to somewhere private and remind me just who I belonged to. He owned me and that was how it was always going to be."

Gilbert's eyes went blank and hard at the same time, like he was remembering something that made him angry while making him want to hide. But he didn't stop talking. "He was telling the truth earlier, when he said that I always said yes. At first, I was afraid of being alone. That never quite went away, but I gradually came to fear what would happen if I said no."

Gilbert's voice had grown distant, like he wasn't quite present. Waves of horror went through Matthew and Gilbert didn't notice. He started speaking faster, his tone low and distracted. "Whatever was between us was an open secret for everyone in the Eastern Bloc. Every once in a while, they would see Ivan looking more cheerful than usual in his creepy way and I would be sporting a new injury that I could never quite hide. I would show up with gauze over my neck or my arm in a sling or with a limp I couldn't ignore. The worst was when a presentation I had to give had to be postponed because I could hardly speak and started coughing blood because the night before he—" He cut himself off, breathing fast and seeming to choke on his words.

Enough. He was close to hyperventilating, on the edge of a panic attack, and Matthew had to stop this. Matthew began to move slowly, making his movements slow and obvious as he advanced towards Gilbert. In a soft, gentle voice, he tried to get his attention. "Gil? Gilbert, sweetheart, I need you to slow your breathing, okay?"

Gilbert's eyes flicked towards him but were still unfocused and…Matthew didn't think there was a singular word to describe the look in them. Matthew heard himself give a small sound, almost as if he was conditioned to voice the pain Gilbert refused to, and stopped about a foot away from him. His eyes began to sting again and he cursed this entire god forsaken situation. If there was ever a time he needed to be strong, it was now but _fucking hell,_ this was bad.

Gilbert was still breathing fast, but he seemed to gain control of himself. Voice rough, he managed to say, "Matthew, I…I didn't mean to…I'm sorry. I—"

Matthew was shaking his head and slowly started reaching for him. "Please, Gilbert, let me…just, please."

Gilbert didn't move away as Matthew used a gentle hand to cup his face. Instead, he let out a shaky breath and shuddered as he closed his eyes and melted into the touch. Encouraged, Matthew silently asked for a hug with a soft touch of his other hand. Gilbert opened his eyes and looked intently at him for a second before wrapping himself around Matthew. When Matthew reciprocated, they were almost in the same position from earlier. Gilbert had slouched to allow a bruising hold on Matthew's waist and his face buried in his neck while Matthew had a hand snaked through his hair and an arm around his shoulders. Matthew started making what he hoped were soothing sounds and he felt Gilbert start to breath heavier and shake. Soon, he also felt his tears.

Oh, yes. Ivan was a dead man. The only question was how horrible, painful, and slow his death was going to be.

* * *

It took Gilbert a long time to become aware of his surroundings after that. When he started paying attention to anything that wasn't the feel of Matthew in his arms and the true nightmares in his head, they were on the bed. Matthew had his back propped against the head board and was still running a hand through Gilbert's hair. He was singing what sounded like a lullaby in a language Gilbert had never heard before softly and Gilbert was still latched onto him. He tensed to move away and Matthew stopped singing.

Gilbert kept his face turned away from him as he started extracting himself from Matthew. It was actually a little difficult, mostly because of how he had positioned himself to be Matthew's personal octopus, but he managed. Matthew seemed to let him go but he kept up a light contact throughout, his hand trailing along Gilbert's arm as he pulled away. When Gilbert was far enough to break away completely, he heard Matthew draw a breath as if to say something, but nothing followed. He murmured something about needing a moment and coming right back before fleeing to the bathroom.

He quietly slumped against the door when he closed it, keenly feeling the Matthew's absence. But Gilbert needed a minute to himself, if only to not look as much of a mess as he felt. He stalked over to the mirror and grimaced at his reflection. His skin was only flushed in patches, but his eyes were bloodshot and watery. Turning on the cold water, he let it run as dropped his head and just breathed for a second.

Well, that had certainly not gone the way he had hoped. Then again, his expectation that he would be able to sail through his story like he was talking about the fucking weather was probably unrealistic. Okay, completely unrealistic, but his illusion was the only reason he was able to get so far into it anyway.

And the way Matthew had reacted was... Gilbert hadn't know what to expect, but it was probably as perfect as he could imagine. He didn't freak out when Gilbert had started losing it and he hadn't charged off to kill Ivan like he had feared. No, Matthew had made him feel grounded and safe, allowing him to face his past without drowning in it. And he really had been close to drowning. The moment before Matthew had approached him, he was seeing a parade of images in his mind of all the actions Ivan took to hurt him and all the words he said to keep him feeling like there were only worse options than him. Matthew had kept him enough in the present that he could still function and Gilbert was endlessly grateful for it. Unfortunately, he had also cried on him. A lot.

It had been years since Gilbert had let himself have a crying spell like that rather than having it forced on him. Whenever the urge hit, he managed to push it away until later, always later, and eventually the desire dissipated. It was telling that he let this happen in front of Matthew, but it didn't say anything he didn't already know.

Gilbert repeatedly splashed the now frigid water onto his face and neck, feeling a little more together with each pass. After a moment he braced himself on the sink and stared hard at his reflection. He could do this. The hardest part was already over; he just had to explain how he got from there to here. Easy enough, right? Right.

Gilbert dried his face and steeled his spine before walking back into the bedroom. He was surprised to find Matthew at the desk, arms stiff against the surface and shoulders tense. He had lost the dress shirt and the T-shirt he kept showed the straining muscles in his arms. He looked like he was shaking.

"Mattie?"

Gilbert involuntarily flinched away from the anger on Matthew's face before he had managed to smooth it away to his usual concern. Gilbert was 95% sure that anger wasn't directed at him and he was damn glad of it. It wasn't the cold, controlled ire that Gilbert had seen before but berserker-level rage that led to reckless actions and death. He hated to even think it, but he agreed with Ivan if this is what he had seen earlier; Gilbert hadn't thought Matthew capable of this kind of anger. Then again, he should know better than anyone that everyone has a breaking point and it seemed like Matthew had nearly reached his.

Matthew had seen the flinch and froze almost mid-motion when he had turned to move towards Gilbert. Then he settled back and gripped the edge of the desk hard enough to make his knuckles white. He still looked worried if a little sad now as he said, "Hey, Gil. Are you feeling better?"

"Yeah, I am." Then, the 5% that wasn't sure about him and had no self-esteem made Gilbert ask, "You aren't angry with me…right?"

Matthew slouched and smiled sadly. "No, sweetheart. I'm the farthest from it."

"Okay." In that case, he was way too far away. "Can I hold you?"

A corner of Matthew's mouth ticked up. "Isn't that my line?"

They ended up in a similar position from before, back on the bed for ease of cuddling and wrapped around each other. Matthew kissed Gilbert's forehead after a moment of comforting silence and said, "I know you said you wanted to do this, but please don't hurt yourself further on my account. I'm honored you feel like you can share your past with me, but I'm more concerned about present you. You looked like you were close to experiencing a flashback or at the very least were about to have a panic attack. I will always listen if you want to tell me something or need anything but I'm worried about you, too. I know you can't control them, I just ask that you be careful, okay?"

Gilbert nodded and said, "Thank you." Matthew's arms tightened around him and he felt secure enough to continue talking. "But I think now's a good time as any to tell you how I got out.

"The presentation I had to postpone wasn't just one I had to give to my boss or the government, but to the larger Warsaw Pact Nations. I think that they were under the impression that we were just having rough sex that constantly got out of hand, but that changed as soon as they realized the extent of the damage to my throat. A couple of Nations started talking to me, Katyusha being the most persistent among them. At first I thought it was too little, too late because it was the mid '80s and Ivan had done a number on my thought processes by then." That was a massive understatement, but he didn't really want to go into it.

"It took a long time, but eventually I started pulling away from him. The timing was convenient because his new boss decided to implement a bunch of new policies that left him too busy to question why I was increasingly unavailable. By 1988 I was ready to let him go and I thought he would be too exhausted to fight it. I was wrong.

"As each of us started to break away from him, Ivan became more determined to hold on to anyone left, despite his direct order to stand down. By that summer, we weren't fucking so much as fighting. I lost the fights and still didn't have the strength to say no, but I was no longer the only one walking away with injuries.

"The last time I saw him was when Elizabeta left for good and I knew my sham of a government wouldn't last long. I said no and he was shaken enough that we fought to a draw. It wasn't pretty and I had no fight left in me after that. The Wall fell within weeks and I was so relieved that I wouldn't have to fight him again because I wasn't sure I could."

Gilbert's voice had become caustic by the end, remembering how terrified he was for those days that Ivan would come back and how convinced he was that when he did, Gilbert wouldn't be able to stop him. He didn't consider it as one as his proudest moments, so when Matthew kissed his forehead again, he was confused. He shifted onto his elbow to frown down at him.

Matthew's hand shifted from his hair to the side of his neck as he said softly, "I'm proud of you, angel. That took a lot of courage, fighting your abuser like that. Not many can do it." He looked like he meant it and Gilbert didn't know how to react to the praise. He went back to where he was and settled against him instead.

They were quiet for a few minutes until Gilbert started talking again. "I was one of the first people at that Wall that day. I had been banned from world meetings, so I hadn't seen my brother in twenty years. The only other time I had seen him smile that much was when he pulled his head out of his ass long enough to see the Feli loved him, too." Gilbert smiled at both memories before sobering as he remembered what came after.

"It didn't take me long to realize just how difficult reunification was going to be. My half was ridiculously far behind Ludwig's and it was overwhelming trying to make it all work. By the time that reunification was formalized, I kind of…checked out."

Matthew tensed and when Gilbert didn't follow that with anything said, "Gil, what does that mean?"

"I just…stopped trying. Ludwig clearly didn't need me anymore and I felt like I was just a burden to him, so I got out of his way. I didn't really have the energy to see people, so I didn't bother. I had managed to push past the previous forty years when I was living them, but it all hit me at once. I actually don't remember much from the end of '90 through '91. I'm told I was despondent, and I believe it. I knew I was worrying West and that just made me feel worse. It was a really fucked up feedback loop. I kept expecting to fade away since there was just one Germany then. I think Ludwig thought the same and that only made him more frantic."

"What changed?"

"The USSR dissolved. I went from quietly waiting to die to basically existing to spite Ivan. I drank too much, tried every drug imaginable, and partied hard. I was trying to show everyone that I was just fine and was enjoying life when really I was doing my damnedest to forget. The things I did would have killed a human, even with Francis, Tony, and Scottie doing their best to keep me in check. Slowly, I began to talk to people about what happened outside of being too far gone to control my mouth. I never told Francis the full story and doubt I ever will. Orders or not, he was one of the four people who were directly responsible for the loss of my country. It isn't fully logical and I know that it was a lifetime ago, but I don't think I'll ever trust him enough to tell him everything. Six Nations know: West and by extension Feli, Scottie, Tony, Katyusha, and—"

"Me."

"Yes, you. Most of the former Eastern Bloc knows some because they were there for it and I'm pretty sure ran some interference for me, but I only told Katyusha the extent of it. We were good friends, though we didn't really keep in touch after everything. The more time that passed, the harder it was for me to call. I wrote to her when she became independent but that was it.

"My…recovery is what West calls it, was very slow. I probably should have gotten professional help, but I was stubborn. It took me a long time to accept that not everything that happened to me was my fault and that maybe I deserved to be happy. I had to fight to be okay and the hardest part was finding the motivation to do it. But I got here and I'm mostly okay. I don't know if that counts as winning but it feels like it."

"I think it counts."

"Thanks, _Liebling_. That means a lot." Gilbert nuzzled closer and sighed, relieved that the larger story was sketched and that he wouldn't have to do it again. They were still for a moment until Matthew shifted uncomfortably. Gilbert asked, "Do you want me to get up?"

"No! No, it's just…um." Gilbert strained to see his face only to see him looking vaguely uncomfortable. Gilbert decided to take a wild guess.

"Remember, you can ask me anything."

"I, well. I understand most but not all of what happened today. Would you mind explaining a bit more? For example, why did you step closer to me when he compared me to Alfred?"

That one was easy. He relaxed again and said, "For one, I didn't like the way he was looking at you before he even opened his mouth. He was looking at you like you were next on his to-do list." Gilbert shivered at the thought. "Then he said you were identical to your brother which, even though you do look a lot like him, is not only wrong but disturbing since I'm sure he was implying that because he had fucked your brother, he had also fucked you."

"You knew about that? That Alfred was sleeping with Ivan?"

"Ivan liked to brag about it." Gilbert didn't know if Ivan compared all his bedmates to each other in the heat of the moment or if he alone had had that extra-special privilege.

Matthew winced. "That's not creepy at all."

"Which part?"

"All of it. And by creepy, I mean fucked up." Gilbert smiled against Matthew's shirt at his words. The smile faded when Matthew asked, "What did that word mean, Gil? The one he called you, I mean."

"Любимец has several meanings. The two he most used it as were 'pet' and 'favorite.'"

Matthew's breath caught in his throat and Gilbert waited a tense few seconds for him to start breathing again. The air flow was shaky for a minute or so and Gilbert started to move off his chest when Matthew hugged him tighter and said, "I have one more question, sweetheart, but I want you to know that I am very much in the camp that he should be killed and killed horribly. If you really don't _want_ me to do something, then I won't. But if the only reason you're holding me back is because you think I can't, then you'll have a difficult time convincing me not to because I know it should be done."

Gilbert sighed. That was fair and he couldn't honestly say he was 100% okay with the fact that Ivan got off scot free for the years of torment he put him through. "I understand but if I can't convince you, could you talk to West and Alistair beforehand and hear their reasoning? I just don't want you to get into any trouble because over this."

"Angel, you're worth more than a little trouble, but I promise I'll talk to them first."

"Thank you." Gilbert tilted his head up to kiss where Matthew's neck met the fabric before relaxing again. When silence followed with Matthew's hand rubbing circles on his back, Gilbert frowned. "You were going to ask me something? Because, seriously, you can ask. No matter what it is."

Matthew stilled completely and he took a deep breath. "Is Ivan why your hard limits are what they are?"

"The short answer is yes but there's a lot more to it. Some of it goes back centuries to a battle against him when I fell into the middle of a frozen lake. Part of it goes back to the brainwashing but a lot can be laid at those twenty years of abuse. But they used to be worse.

"When the Wall fell, sex and romance was the farthest thing from my mind. I was expecting to die, so it didn't seem like the right thing to do to get someone invested in me. After, I still didn't think I could possibly handle a relationship, but sex was still something I needed. It was a process for me to become okay again with the fact that I _like_ sex, let alone how I like it. Ivan had a way of beating my preferences out of me or making something enjoyable unpleasant. It took me even longer to let someone top me. It was all Ivan did and I've had issues with the idea since. It ta—"

"Wait, what?" Gilbert abruptly found himself on his side as Matthew sat up straight and turned around to stare at him in shock. His eyes were wide and his voice had jumped an octave as stuttered, "But I…you… _we_ already—"

"Yes, you did." Gilbert sat up, too. He wanted to be on the same level as Matthew when he said this. "As I was saying, it takes a lot for me to trust someone not to hurt me like that, to give up that much control. You're one of the two people who've fucked me since I got out. Alistair's the other."

Matthew was pale and still staring at him with his jaw dropped a little. Gilbert used a finger to close his mouth and gave him a moment to process this. Gilbert had been willing to let Matthew take him when they started dating and was more than happy with his choice. Matthew had asked through actions then soft words on Wednesday after they had arrived at home. Gilbert had still been reeling from the realization that he was in love with him and was ready to give him anything. The first time had been slow and gentle and the second was anything but. When Matthew had said he was a switch, he had meant it in more ways than one. The third time was a slow, sweet torture for them both, but the fourth was rushed because otherwise they were going to miss their flight. It had been completely different from when he was with Ivan or even Alistair. There was just something about the way Matthew touched him that intensified the sensations and made him feel like he was cherished. He felt his mouth curl into a satisfied smile at the memory.

"Gil, you _let me_ —"

"I didn't just let you. I distinctly remember begging you a several points that night."

"But what if I had hurt—"

"I knew you wouldn't and if you did, I trusted you to stop at my safeword."

Matthew stared at him for a second longer before asking, "Can I kiss you?"

"Of course, you know you don't have to—"

Matthew kissed him hard enough that Gilbert would have fallen back onto the bed if not for the hand in his hair. As it was, the kiss was bruising and hungry and _perfect_ , the type of kiss that Gilbert had been afraid Matthew would stop giving him after he knew everything for one reason or another. When he opened his mouth to deepen the kiss, Matthew broke it to look at him. His eyes were dark and his cheeks had color in them again and he was fucking beautiful as he said, more serious than Gilbert had yet seen him, "Thank you. Gilbert, I—" he seemed to cut himself off, "—just, thank you."

With equal weight, Gilbert said, "You're welcome."


	31. Chapter 30: The Limits of Control

*Saturday*

Matthew held his breath and risked lifting his head to find the digital clock on the nightstand. 03:49. _Fucking brilliant._ He didn't dare slam his head down in frustration but he was really fucking tired of not being able to sleep. Instead, he relaxed back against Gilbert's chest and tried once more to rest.

It wasn't like he hadn't managed to sleep earlier. After the revelations that Gilbert's confessions had brought, they had fallen asleep wrapped around each other as usual, too drained from the day to do anything but lazily kiss and cuddle before losing consciousness. Up until that point, Matthew's focus was on making sure Gilbert felt safe and loved while Gilbert had seemed intent on getting as close to him as possible. Matthew smiled as he recalled how Gilbert hadn't stopped nuzzling into his neck which led to him squirming away because it had tickled and then the inevitable attack from Gilbert. The sensation had left him too weak to fight him off until his boyfriend took pity on him and stopped. Matthew hadn't been upset like before because Gilbert was smiling with him and he hadn't smiled, not really, since their presentation.

They had fallen asleep not long after that, but something about his dream had disturbed him so much that Matthew had jolted to awareness only an hour and a half later to find himself in their usual position: Matthew half draped over Gilbert who had a hand resting possessively on his lower back. It was only a trick of luck that had Gilbert sleeping peacefully through it and all the times that came after. Matthew never remembered what dream entity kept forcing him awake, but he certainly understood why it was happening.

He was angry.

It had been years, maybe even decades since Matthew had been this enraged. His fingers itched to destroy something, his muscles spasmed minutely with inactivity, and a chill had long since raced up his spine and settled there. His mind played fantasies of long-overdue, bloody retribution and his heart was beating erratically. The fact that he was able to fight all of these reactions to remain relaxed against Gilbert was nothing short of a miracle and a testament to how much he cared about him. But it was a battle he was losing with every minute he remained awake and without an outlet for his energy.

The problem was that he did _not_ want to leave Gilbert alone. He knew he had a history of nightmares and surely being forced to walk Matthew through his past trauma was enough to cause another one. Even though Gilbert seemed to be sleeping peacefully, Matthew had never before managed to sneak out of bed without waking him and that was the last thing he wanted. If Matthew had been exhausted, he couldn't imagine what Gilbert had felt like and refused to disturb him. Finally, even if he managed to get out of bed and the room without waking him, he would have to find a way to let off some steam and come back before Gilbert woke up. The thought of Gilbert waking alone after everything he had given Matthew last night seemed cruel.

What could he even do to calm down at this point? He had packed for a weekend of meetings, not running a half marathon or beating the ever-loving shit out of a heavy bag for an hour or so. Nothing would be open at this hour. The way he worked though his anger the last time he felt like this was _completely_ out of the question. One, having angry sex with Gilbert was something he might never be able to do after what he told him and, two, Gilbert already said that he wouldn't deliberately hurt him during sex which was exactly what he would need.

_Shit._

This was a problem. Matthew could step back from his emotions enough to see that his ability to make good judgement calls would be impaired and his inhibitions would be lowered if he didn't somehow distract himself. If he was going to not kill Ivan on sight, he would need all the control he could get. There was no choice: he had to leave, at least for a little while.

Matthew was not in the best position to do this, but he started by trying to remove Gilbert's hand from his back. A slew of curses went through his head as he reached across his body to pick up Gilbert's wrist only to feel resistance before 2 seconds had passed. Gilbert shifted under him and groaned and Matthew gave up on sneaking away. He let go of him and sat up, watching as Gilbert blinked his eyes open to frown at him. His voice heavy with sleep he asked, confused, "Birdie?"

Some of the tension Matthew held eased at the word, but not enough for him to be comfortable. "Hey, sweetheart," he whispered back, comfortingly. "I can't sleep so I'm going for a walk, alright?"

"What time is...?" Gilbert turned to look at the clock and frowned harder before rubbing his eyes. "What's wrong?"

 _Stop being cute, dammit_. "Nothing's wrong. I was just feeling a little antsy. I'll be back before you know it."

"Okay. Just be sure to put some clothes on before you go. I'm already beating them off with a stick; I don't want to think what the competition would be like if anyone saw you in your underwear," Gilbert joked, sill not quite awake.

Matthew scoffed lightly before finding his clothes and shoes in the dark. He mumbled, "Like I would ever look at anyone else when I have you."

"Huh?"

"Nothing. Go back to sleep, angel."

"Wait, Mattie?"

"Yeah?" His hand twitched as he gripped the door handle, ready to bolt.

"Kiss me?"

Matthew didn't say anything. He smiled and quickly returned to the bed before leaning over to give Gilbert a kiss goodbye. It was light and lingering and somehow broke Matthew's heart, just a little. He frowned but didn't want Gilbert to see, so he shifted to kiss his forehead. Not for the first time, Matthew wanted to tell him that he loved him. He wished he spoke a language Gilbert didn't so he could say it as many times and in as many ways as he wanted without running the risk of scaring Gilbert away. But he didn't so he couldn't and he turned back to the door to leave. "I'll be back soon."

"'kay." Gilbert turned over and seemed to mumble something in German.

Matthew didn't stop to ask him what he said because he was already out the door. If the exercise room didn't have a heavy bag, then Matthew was going to go up and down the hotel stairs until his legs ached and he wanted to punch things less. He could only pray it would be enough.

* * *

As one of noble birth, Roderich hated few things more than having his name besmirched. He knew a gauntlet had been thrown at his feet and was not one to ignore such a challenge. Yes, Alistair had sent him an email during his little _stunt_ warning him not to do anything in retaliation but for the sake of his honor, he could not just ignore what happened.

The day before had been absolutely horrid. Vash had refused to sleep with him while they were at the summit so Roderich was facing the strain of having to restrain himself from the object of his affection just because they were around other people, as if he was ashamed of him. The thought had been decidedly laughable until the recess for yesterday lunch was called.

Roderich had not bothered to give more than a cursory glance over the schedule, so Gilbert's appearance had been a bit of a surprise. He could admit to himself that he had looked well, better than he had seen him for a while, and was acting shockingly well behaved. Combined with Alistair's attendance, Roderich had kept his eyes peeled for any moves against him. When none came, the urge to gain at the very least an apology for what he had endured over that singular incident had been overwhelming.

Roderich had gone over to confront Gilbert about his friends bothering him over the past month or so, only to have him apologize before he could bring it up. It was rather unbalancing. Then, to add insult to injury, Gilbert had spouted off some nonsense about him being an asshole. Time and distance from the incident, in addition to the visits he had received, had more than convinced Roderich that he was in his rights to speak his mind about how the thought of actually pursuing a relationship with Gilbert disgusted him. He had survived too much in his life to even consider becoming emotionally attached to such a weak Nation with an abhorrent personality. He had indulged his presence for long enough and every time he considered that he would never have to put up with having Gilbert as a guest in his home, his mood brightened just a little. Yet, the fact that Gilbert said that he had found someone better than _him_ , someone _perfect_ , was simply unbelievable. Best he could tell, Gilbert had pinned after him for years and suddenly he's _found someone better_? Completely unacceptable.

Then it had gotten so much worse.

Roderich had never had his privacy violated in such a way. He had always suspected that the Scot was as uncivilized as they came but now he had his proof. Then, on top of the utter embarrassment he suffered, Alistair had sent him a threat! He was to keep quiet about why that happened and not retaliate. Please! As if one such as he was to be ordered about by a ill behaved dog like him.

He then had had to endure the insipid interrogation of that bull, Alfred. Roderich had no connection with this "Mattie," so he had assumed that Alfred was spouting nonsense as he was wont to do at times. But that gun-toting oaf had given him an idea. Why would Matthew, a man he never spoke to and was known for his politeness, hate him?

The question had him watching the presentation given by Matthew and Gilbert (of all people) very closely. True, the information they presented was disturbing, but he found their interactions far more fascinating.

For one, they were standing far too close to one another to be simple colleagues. Then, the way that they looked at each other can only be described as sappy. They may have thought they were being subtle, but Roderich could tell that they were touching through the entire presentation up until Matthew had started pacing like a caged animal.

The most telling reaction was when Roderich had asked his very pointed question. Considering their interactions and Matthew's clear embarrassment at the mention of their "accident," Roderich had guessed that it was sexual arousal that had overwhelmed him to the point of infecting his population. It was all rather base and predictable but he did not doubt Gilbert could evoke that reaction, especially if emotions were involved. He had wanted to see how Gilbert would react to his inquiry and he had not been disappointed.

It had been an age since Roderich had seen Gilbert angry, even longer since any form of such animosity was directed towards him. Even during the incident that had started this whole mess, Gilbert had never moved to defend himself, emotionally or otherwise. Even when they talked at lunch and Gilbert had verbally attacked him, his eyes had a distance to them, something like mild disinterest. But the minute he had gone after Matthew…Roderich had forgotten what it was like to read your death on someone's face from such a distance.

It looked like he had found Gilbert's perfect man.

The insults he had suffered that day called for immediate attention. What better place to start than at the beginning. Roderich could not hurt Gilbert directly, but the minute he looked at him in anger, Roderich knew there was a better target to be sought: the source of his happiness. He did not know much about Matthew, but he knew Gilbert and he knew Alistair. Out of the three, he was no doubt the weakest link.

Now, he just had to prepare.

* * *

"Elizabeta! Just the woman I wanted to see. How _is_ my favorite ex-wife doing? How's your husband?"

Elizabeta leaned back in her chair and narrowed her eyes at Roderich. He wanted something. She lazily sipped at her coffee and said, "Can I help you, ex-husband?"

"I am simply—"

"Come now, Roderich. There's no need to pretend with me. I lived with you for more years than I care to recall, after all. What do you want and what will you give me for it?"

Roderich dropped his pleasant expression and gave her the calculating smile she was used to. Yes, she had set him up with Vash because she thought they both deserved to be happy, but there was more than one reason she was glad they were divorced. With two sharks living under one roof, it was a miracle they didn't devour each other that first year. She was more violent but Roderich was manipulative and cold when he wanted to be. Elizabeta would say she was the wiser of them; she chose her battles carefully while Roderich could get himself in the messiest situations that could have been avoided. Of course, she was probably biased.

"What do you want for information on Canada?"

"For goodness sake, at least call him his name. Why do you want it?"

He looked at her skeptically. "Since when do you care?"

"Since whatever you did to Gilbert got mine and damn near everyone else's computers hacked. That's since when."

Roderich froze in his seat. "You figured that out."

"It was obvious if you knew what to look for." She almost warned him against thinking of going after Matthew, but she hoped that he would be smart enough to see that was not only dangerous but stupid. Forget Gilbert and his circle; Matthew was Alfred's twin and one of the few people he gave more than a passing damn about. _There are just some people you don't fuck with._ "Why do you want to know about Matthew?"

Roderich pursed his lips and Elizabeta knew that whatever he was about to say was going to be at least partially a lie. "I was told yesterday by Alfred that he hated me for some reason. Since I know next to nothing about him, I figured I should learn a few things. Know thy enemy and all that."

Elizabeta narrowed her eyes at him before letting it go. Roderich was a master of talking around a lie so much that it became true. She doubted she would get anything thing else out of him, so she sipped her coffee once again and shrugged. "Fine. But I have conditions."

"You always do."

"You're going to explain to me exactly what you did to get Alistair to go after you like that before I utter a word. You are also going to give me monthly, _detailed_ updates as to your relationship with Vash."

Roderich looked shocked. "That is asking _far_ too much, Eliza."

Elizabeta smiled sweetly. "Is it really, dear? I am probably the only person willing to talk to you about Matthew that knows anything about him. I am also a bit strapped for time, so this is a one-time offer. I have all the leverage, but it's your choice."

Roderich seemed to consider his options for a second before saying, "Agreed. The reason Alistair and all of Gilbert's friends are after me is that I rejected his romantic advances a little over a month ago. I did so in a way that was relatively cruel and Gilbert seems to have left the continent for a time."

Elizabeta sat up abruptly and frowned. "Gilbert wouldn't…what did you say to him?" The last came out accusatory.

"Just some personal opinions I had of ever being actually involved with someone like him."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "And what kind of person is—"

" _Please_ , Eliza. You hate him and have for centuries. No need to act like you care now. Besides, did you not say that we were short on time? Where _is_ Dmitri?"

"Don't try to threaten me with him, Roderich. Dmitri knows exactly who he married and loves me for who I am."

"Regardless, I did my part. Are you going to go back on our deal?"

Elizabeta glared at him for a moment. Not a small part of her was worried about Gilbert, considering that she had a vague idea as to what he went through with Ivan. For Roderich to say he was cruel could be a lot of things and none of them were good. But she had never reneged on a deal and wasn't going to start now. "Matthew Williams. Age uncertain but no more than 550 years old. Chosen birth date: July 1. Twin to Alfred. Raised by first Francis then Arthur. Known personality traits: polite, quiet, kind, peaceful. He's basically the foil to his brother. Known associates: Alfred, Alistair, Arthur, Carlos, Feliciano, Francis, Gilbert, Lovino, Ludwig, Nate, Yekaterina. Spouse: Gilbert. Prior known relationships: none. Miscellaneous facts: he is geographically the second largest nation in the world. Any other questions?"

Roderich grinned at her. "You never fail to impress me, Eliza. Still, that was pretty bare-bones information…"

"He hasn't done much to draw my attention."

"Still, can you write that down for me?"

"No."

"What do you mean he had no relationships before Gilbert? And why did you call him his spouse? They cannot have been together for long."

"I mean that, before Gilbert, Matthew had not dated any Nation as far as I know. And you _have_ seen them look at each other, correct? Saw how Gilbert reacted to your question yesterday? Gilbert's his spouse." Elizabeta was just waiting to see an iron cross around his neck to confirm her suspicions.

Roderich scoffed. "I simply can't believe it. Gilbert was after _me_ a month ago. There is no way they can be serious so soon."

Elizabeta smiled cruelly. "It sounds like you're jealous, Roderich. And have you ever seen two Nations look at each other the way they do and not have it be serious? When we find love matches as adults, they tend to stick as long as no one messes up. It makes a strange sort of sense that you would be easy for him to move on from. The minute he found someone better for him he latched on and it looks like Matthew latched back. Not to mention I don't recall him ever looking at _you_ that way. Anything else?" When Roderich only sputtered disbelieving sounds Elizabeta stood, saying, "Then I'll be off. I look forward to my first update from you. Oh, and, Roderich?"

"Yes?"

She leaned forward to say in his ear, "If you do something stupid, it better not come back to burn me. I would bet that you deserved what you got, but I didn't. You don't want me on your bad side again." Elizabeta straightened and walked away, smiling as she went to seek out her husband before everyone broke into small committees after lunch was over. She had given Roderich rope and could only hope he didn't decide to hang himself with it.

* * *

Matthew stood at the restroom sink and bent over to splash cold water on his face. He was no longer plagued by the rage that had kept him awake and climbing up and down the hotel stairs at the wee hours of the morning. His conversation with Ludwig and Alistair had gone a long way to relieving him, but he was still tense and a little jittery with all the excess energy that hadn't gone towards killing Ivan.

It had turned out that Matthew was right: Ludwig and Alistair would not have let Ivan go unpunished and didn't. What they had done was highly illegal, even for them, and an extremely well-guarded secret. But it had meant that Ivan suffered slowly and painfully for all that he had done, so Matthew was on-board with participating if the need arose. What he wasn't okay with was keeping Gilbert in the dark.

It turned out that the only reason Gilbert hadn't figured out that they were doing something before now was because the most taxing groundwork was laid when he was still despondent. What they had done took massive amounts of coordination that had to be as inconspicuous as possible. Ludwig had been the strategy while Alistair had been the stealth. Together, they figured out which strings to pull and when to knock over already wobbling dominoes. No one would suspect them because they made the process look natural and they were the least likely culprits in any case as far as the rest of the world was concerned. It was supposed to be a one-time thing, with a clear objective and finite outcome. But as Gilbert slowly started revealing the depth of his trauma, they saw no reason to stop pulling strings. Their connections became harder to maintain as years passed, but a few still remained.

Both Ludwig and Alistair had explained that Gilbert was only just starting to show the signs of a full recovery within the past year or so and that they were unsure how he would react to the news. Apparently the only reason they had told him was: (A) they were thinking of telling Gilbert soon anyway and (B) Matthew had managed to convince them with a few words and a look that he was going to kill Ivan if they didn't give him a reason not to. Matthew had appreciated it but strongly urged them to tell Gilbert as soon as possible. As it was, it wasn't Matthew's secret to tell and that left him in an uncomfortable position.

That little information session had happened at lunch and Matthew hadn't had a chance to talk to Gilbert before they had to break into small, problem-specific sections. They were both leading the group put together to figure out what could be done with the whole "infecting their people with emotions" issue. Since they had to be pretty focused, all Matthew had managed was a brief comment about how he wasn't planning to commit murder anymore that had earned him a happy, relieved grin from Gilbert and a startled look from Kiku, the only person who had seemed to overhear him.

The session had gone well, with everyone serious about each possible solution someone presented and the discussions were fair and open. After about four hours, they had come up with a couple of frameworks for testing when, how, and why incidents occur and how to prevent them. The one thing that everyone had in common was concern for their populations, a fact that had probably eased tensions that otherwise would have made themselves known.

Yet, Matthew had been feeling unbalanced and had excused himself to go get a grip now that the session was over. He was tired but somehow had so much energy that his muscles were randomly jumping. Sitting still during that meeting was easier said than done and Matthew had gotten a few looks of concern from Gilbert. No one else seemed to notice something was off, which was fine. Matthew was just happy they were actually listening to his input instead of just talking over him like everyone usually did at these things. During the break Matthew had bolted out of the room to give his restless energy some outlet, returning to an outright worried boyfriend who held up the meeting for a minute to ask him what was wrong. Matthew couldn't very well say _I was prepared to kill someone with my bare hands and now that I'm not I have all this useless energy that is driving me nuts_ in a room full of people. He had settled for just saying that he didn't sleep well and now he was restless, but was otherwise fine.

The frantic pace he had maintained during the break had calmed him to a point, but he knew he would either need to wear himself out or crash, then go to sleep before he felt normal again. The cold water was helping, though.

He took one more pass with the water before reaching for a paper towel. As he dried his face, he heard the door open behind him and Matthew hurried to pull himself together. He wasn't expecting to be addressed.

"It's Matthew, right?"

The words were casual, friendly even, but red flags were raised in Matthew's mind immediately. Roderich was known for his pretension and never had a reason to speak to him outside of work. Beyond that, Matthew knew damn well Roderich was aware of who he was if yesterday's question had meant anything. Still, Roderich hadn't offered offence yet, so he would be polite until he wasn't.

"Um, yes." Matthew tossed the paper towel in the trash and put his glasses back on. "Hello, Roderich."

"I'm happy I caught you, despite the less than ideal location. I wanted to apologize for my question during your presentation yesterday. I realize now that it was probably rather invasive and that was not my intention." Roderich started to lean casually against the sink next to Matthew, arms crossed and face earnest. It was clearly meant to be disarming, but his eyes were a little too cold to be sincere.

"Thank you, Roderich. I appreciate the apology. I have people waiting for me so, um, take care."

Matthew turned to leave and got about two steps from the door when Roderich said, "I shouldn't have asked because it was obvious what you meant. By 'people' you mean Gilbert, right? I'm sure he had a fair part in causing that 'accident' of yours. Am I wrong?"

Matthew knew he was being baited, but Roderich had chosen the one day when he wasn't going to walk away even when he knew he should. Matthew turned back to look at him and smiled in a way that should have had Roderich stopping whatever he was trying to pull. "I don't see how that is any concern of yours."

"Of course it concerns me. If I can accidentally force my lust on a crowd of people, I should know. I can't imagine how I could deal with what I had done if that happened. Tell me, how _do_ you sleep at night?"

 _Fucking ouch_. Matthew's jaw tightened and he was only just able to stop himself from flinching. His smile hardened. "Like a baby, since I'm doing all that I can to make sure it doesn't happen again anywhere else."

"Oh, right," Roderich said, like he hadn't heard Matthew speak. "I almost forgot about your bedwarmer. I suppose the little slut wears you out often enough, so sleep really shouldn't be a problem for you. At least, for now."

Everything stopped. His mind blanked and his breath halted. The energy that had been driving up a wall calmed. "What did you just call him?"

"You mean you don't know? I guess his reputation didn't make it across the pond." Roderich shook his head pityingly, his false concern betrayed by the slight smirk to his mouth and triumph in his eyes. "Gilbert's slept with more Nations and people than anyone on the continent, even Francis. People keep going back for more as I understand it. I guess practice really does make perfect. But he could never stay committed for more than six months or so."

Matthew knew he was lying, but Roderich had already dug his grave. He was just interested in how deep he wanted to be buried. "Are you trying to bait me into a fight?"

"Of course not. You're young and according to the gossip he's your first boyfriend. You have a right to know that the man you're sleeping with is a whore living on borrowed time before you get too attached."

His vision sharpened and he felt so many things fall away, not the least of which his promise to not hurt Roderich. His eyes became cold and he hadn't felt this stable all day. "Is that a threat?"

"He's not worth the time to threaten, especially when nature is doing worse than I ever could. How long do you think Gilbert can live as one of us without a land to call his own? Without a people? A Nation without a nation does not last long. He's been around for twenty years without a home. How much of his clock has already run out? He might age slower as one of us, but I don't doubt he'll be mortal soon if he isn't already."

The thought hurt enough to cut through his calm and cause fear to settle in his gut. If Gilbert left him voluntarily, fine, at least he could be happy somewhere. If Gilbert died…

_No!_

Matthew closed his eyes and pushed that thought away to be dealt with later. Roderich took that as a sign of weakness and kept talking. "Don't be upset; it was bound to happen sooner or later. Besides, it's best to cut him loose now anyway. He's known to get bored easily and it isn't like there's a lack of willing partners for him. Have you seen how he and Alistair act around each other? You should—"

Matthew started laughing, cutting off an abruptly confused Roderich, and reached for his phone. He kept laughing as he unlocked it and typed a quick text to Alfred.

**911 COME ALONE FAR MEN'S ROOM NW CORNER. KNOCK FIRST**

"Am I amusing you?" Roderich seemed disgruntled, disgusted even that Matthew wasn't curled into a tiny sobbing ball on the floor. Not that he would have been like that in front of him anyway, but Roderich just _had_ to pick today to fuck with him.

Matthew put the phone in his pocket and turned around to lock the restroom door. He hung his jacket on the doorknob and started rolling up his sleeves, grateful that he had pulled his hair back for the day. "Yes. I'm not sure what you were trying to accomplish, confronting me in the men's room like a goddamn pre-teen and saying all that bullshit. And, really, it's 2012. The people have learned that slut shaming is wrong and sex workers deserve nothing but your respect. Get with the fucking millennium and remove those words from your list of insults."

"So you're fine with the fact your boyfriend slept with anyone who looked interested? That doesn't bother you, considering you have no idea where he's been?" Still disgusted.

"Gilbert could have fucked, or been fucked by, half the world and I wouldn't hesitate touching him. It's not like we get STDs so why the fuck should it matter to me? We're together now, committed, and you just insulted both of us on several different points. We have this saying in North America. Maybe you've heard of it." Matthew turned around and pulled out his phone to send the text. "Talk shit, get hit."

Roderich stood with a surprised jerk, backing away from him. "What?"

Matthew advanced on him with a cruel smile. "We have maybe about three minutes till by bother gets here and stops me. Let's see if I can teach you a few things."

Roderich threw the first punch, a hit that turned his head, knocked his glasses off, and split his lip. Matthew laughed lowly before whispering, "My turn."

They fought for a short time, both of them with at least some experience in combat and therefore not utterly hopeless. However, Matthew had him ridiculously outmatched, a fact that seemed to surprise Roderich more than anything else and left his reactions too slow to adequately protect him. People always seemed shocked when they realized that Matthew could fight extremely well just because he preferred peace. He chose not to fight; it didn't mean he wasn't able. Arthur had been rightfully terrified that Alfred would try to claim him and had trained him from an early age. He was a little rusty, but fighting was like riding a bike and it wasn't long before he was standing over a bleeding, barely conscious Roderich. He dearly hoped that last knee to the head left him coherent enough to listen to what Matthew was about to say.

Matthew sighed like he was put upon and lifted Roderich by a tight grip on his neck. Roderich's hands clawed at him. _Oh, good. He's awake_. "Listen to me you piece of shit because I'm only going to say this once and we're almost out of time."

Roderich kicked out at him. Matthew blocked the blow before temporarily dropping Roderich to deliver a punishing gut punch. Then he picked him back up and continued. "Now then. Here are the things you are not ever to do: insult Gilbert within my earshot, spread the blatant lies you just spewed, tell Gilbert he is on 'borrowed time' or imply that he is dying when he is whole and healthy. You know damn well he is East Germany just as Feliciano is North Italy and fuck you for trying to make me think otherwise. If I hear one word of trouble from you, be sure," Matthew leaned forward to snarl in his face, "I will rip out your lungs with my bare hands and wait for them to regenerate so I can do it again, laughing all the while because you threatend the happiness of someone I love. Do you understand?"

Roderich wheezed. There was a knock at the door and Matthew dropped him. "Mattie!?" Alfred yelled through the door, concerned and a little panicked.

"Do you understand, you prick?"

Roderich had a hand around his throat and glared at him. "Yes."

"Good." Matthew kicked him one more time in the groin for good measure then turned to let his brother in amidst Roderich's groans. "One second, Alfred." Matthew draped his suit coat over his arm and stepped back a little to unlock the door.

Alfred barged in and saw Matthew's split lip and bruised cheekbone before spotting the splatters of blood here and there on his shirt. "What the fuck?"

Matthew smiled, knowing his teeth were probably a little red from where his teeth had cut his cheek, but he doubted that would bother his brother. "Thanks for coming, Alfred. Could you do me a favor and find my glasses for me? They were knocked off and you know I won't be able to find them."

Alfred tsked at him and turned to look for the frameless spectacles, whistling lowly when he saw Roderich crumpled on the floor. "You know you need to take them off before you fight, Mattie."

Matthew locked the door again and started the process of making himself look presentable, or at the very least not like he just beat the shit out of someone on first glance. He started washing his hands and, ignoring the sting of soap against his bleeding knuckles, said, "Yeah, I know. I was a little distracted by what he was saying and I forgot that I needed those to see."

"Where the hell are your contacts?"

"At home. I didn't think I would need them."

"Here ya go, bro." Alfred washed off his glasses and handed them over.

"Thanks. Do me a solid and take care of that? I'll owe you one."

"No, you won't. I owe you, like, five hundred so we're good." Roderich gave a hacking cough and both of their eyes cut over to him. Alfred's voice went from conversationally friendly to low and dangerous. "What did he do to you?"

"Ask him. I don't want to be here another minute and I'm sure he'll be cooperative. If not…" Matthew slid his eyes over to meet his twin's. "…What's another broken rib?"

"You're insane. An absolute psychopath," Roderich whimpered on the floor.

"The _fuck_ you just call my brother?"

"You deserved every hit and you know it, you little shit. Remember what I told you and stay the fuck away from me and Gilbert this weekend." Matthew quickly rinsed his mouth out with water before he looked at Alfred as he pulled his coat on and buttoned up.

"Go. I got you."

Relief flooded through him and he gave into the urge to hug Alfred. "Thank you."

Alfred returned the hug and whispered, "What the hell did he say to you, Mattie?"

Matthew pulled away, shaking his head too fast and fighting the burning in his eyes. "See you."

Matthew turned towards the door and fled but not before he heard Alfred turn to Roderich and say, "Start talking and if you lie, you'll find out who's the real psychopath in the family."

Despite their differences, it felt amazing to have Alfred at his back whenever he needed him. It made him feel safe, like he could relax and not carry everything anymore. He felt the wall keeping everything Roderich had said to him, at once completely off the mark and all too close to home, started to crumble and he desperately needed to be alone. He took the long way back to the hotel room to avoid everyone he might know, walking as fast as he could without drawing attention and racing up the empty stairwell.

Matthew only belatedly noticed that Gilbert wasn't in the room as he closed the door and leaned against it. The last thread that had been holding him together broke and he threw a near suffocating hand over his mouth before the sob escaped his throat. Tears spilled over as the pain of remembering what he did to his people, the fear of Gilbert leaving him, and, above all, the anguish at the thought of Gilbert's death rushed back at once.

His sobs became screams and he shook as his knees gave out. He slid down the door and curled in on himself. He would allow himself this one moment of surrender to the darkness that was his thoughts, let himself feel how much it hurt. And, _God,_ but it hurt. He could pull himself together later, in just a minute, before Gilbert came back. But for now, he suffered and made sure that the sound of his screams never made it past his hands.


	32. Chapter 31: Bridging the Gap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are felt. Words are said. Sex is had.

*Saturday, Early Evening*

_HOW COME EVERY TIME YOU COME AROUND_

_MY LONDON, LONDON BRIDGE WANNA—_

Arthur fumbled for his cell phone, knowing immediately that the person who was at fault for his ringtone being changed _again_ was also calling him. He turned red and glanced around the room, praying that no one was paying attention. Unfortunately, Alistair was smirking at him with raised eyebrows across the room from where he was speaking with a distracted Gilbert.

_Fucking hell. Why is it always me?_

Arthur turned his back to his brother and answered the phone, hissing, "Bloody fuck, Alfred, I told you to _stop_ —"

"Yell at me later, Artie." Alfred said, instantly putting Arthur on alert at the seriousness of his tone. "Something's happened to Mattie and I need you to find Gilbert. The asshole's not answering his phone. You were in his section, right?"

"Yes, but what happened? Is Matthew all right?"

"I'll tell you in a sec but I _really_ need you to tell Gilbert to check his phone. From what this fucktard just told me, he's the only one who can help him right now." Alfred sounded angry, which wasn't exactly a rare occurrence. But he was cold, focused…dangerous. Matthew, unlike his brother, never did anything to draw attention to himself or anyone else's ire. For someone to have attacked him…Arthur turned around to stride across the room.

"Who said what?"

"Roderich. Just get to—"

"Yes, yes, hold on." Arthur looked between his brother and Gilbert, seeing them both become alert at his fast approach. Arthur turned his phone away from his mouth and said, "Gilbert, Alfred wants you to check your phone. Something's happened to Matthew and he thinks only you can help him?"

Worry, fear, and something very close to panic spread across Gilbert's face as he quickly reached into his inner-jacket pocket to bring out his phone. Arthur recognized the model and saw a strip of red on the side that meant the sounds were off. Alistair was at his side, so he had the strange privilege to see the two friends go ghost white in concert.

Gilbert said, "Scottie, can you—"

"I've got it. Jus' go."

Gilbert ran out of the room and Alistair turned immediately to gather his and Matthew's things.

Arthur did not appreciate being the only one in the dark. He may not speak to Matthew much, but he was still family and he cared for him. "Gilbert left. Tell me what happened."

"Roderich is what happened. The things that he said to Mattie about Gilbert…" Alfred sighed. "If he had those things to me about you, we would be needing a body bag and an HVAC crew."

There was something immensely flattering about that, in a frightening way. "Alfred, what did he _say_?"

Alfred laughed coldly. "Come and hear for yourself. We're in the men's room at the end of the hall to the left. You should hurry before his internal bleeding stops. Watching him cough up blood was the only thing that made listening to him bearable."

Alistair had rejoined him with an expectant look which probably meant he wanted an explanation and was coming along. "Alfred, what did you do to him?"

Alfred laughed, his regular happy, reckless laugh. "I didn't even touch him, Artie. He was like this when I got here. See ya soon, babe." He hung up.

What? That made no sense. Unless _Matthew_ …Arthur felt the blood drain from his face as horror crept through him. Matthew _never_ started fights, finding every diplomatic way out of a conflict like it was his calling in life. But he _could_ finish them, Arthur had seen to that. If whatever Roderich had said made him lose it like that…

"Wha' 'appened? Alfred's message on'y said, 'find Mattie' afta callin' about ten times."

"Matthew beat Roderich to a pulp after he said something about Gilbert."

Alistair's face tightened and his eyes became as cold as a snake's. "Wha' did tha bastard say?"

"I was about to go ask him myself. Would you like to accompany me, brother?"

The responding smile was sharp. "Wouldn't miss it fer tha world, brother."

* * *

Matthew was freezing and had a headache, finally calm after screaming what had felt like forever but was probably less than five minutes. He sighed and wiped at his face before standing to make himself presentable. Normal doses of aspirin wouldn't do much to ease the pounding in his head, so he took five from the bottle he always traveled with and chugged one of the complementary bottles of water. The water would probably go farther to getting his headache to go away, but taking the medicine felt like he was at least doing something.

He looked down at himself and sighed at the sight of his bloodstained clothes. _That's going to be fun to explain at the dry cleaner's_. He quickly stripped out of his suit before shrugging and taking his undergarments off. Leaving his clothes in a heap (what did it matter if they were wrinkled now?), Matthew walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower. At the very least, the spray and familiar movements would help him feel human again.

While he waited for the water to warm, Matthew took stock of his body. There was a nasty bruise forming on the outside of his left thigh that had him limping but it felt better than ten minutes ago. There was a less worrying mark on his right side and he took a deep breath. To his relief, the movement didn't cause any pain, so his ribs probably weren't even bruised. His lip was split but healing fast and his cheek was turning a fun shade of purple. The cut in his mouth was mostly healed. He had managed to open the skin on some of his knuckles but it wasn't terrible. It would probably take two days for him to be completely healed, his hands taking the longest. All told, he was quite well.

Steam was rising from the stall, signalling the water was ready. Matthew sighed as he stepped under the spray, face turned upward so that any remaining evidence of his breakdown could be washed away. Going through his usual routine, he realized he would have to tell Gilbert something of what happened. Lips didn't just split on their own like this. Sure, Roderich had it coming but—

 _Fuck_.

Matthew groaned as he remembered his promise not to hurt that little asshole to Gilbert from what seemed like a lifetime ago. Was it only a month? Did it only take a month for his world to be turned completely upside down? Or did it change in an instant? Like when he got a phone call from an old friend seeing if he could host someone for a while? Or when Gilbert smirked at him for the first time? Or maybe when he actually _listened_ to him that first night, when no one ever paid attention to him for that long before? Was he lost even then? Had everything changed and he just didn't realize it until it was too late?

Matthew shook his head. Those questions didn't change what was currently happening. A better one to ask was what the exact wording of his promise was. It was something he was going to have to figure out fast. Gilbert wouldn't wait for him to come back to the meeting room forever. Maybe it was something about maiming and torture…? Well, he certainly wouldn't call what he did that. It was a good, old-fashioned beatdown. So he might very well have managed not to break his promise, which was an enormous relief. Roderich would heal just fine.

Matthew turned off the water in time to hear the outer door bang open. "Matthew?" Gilbert called for him, sounding frantic.

Frowning, Matthew wrapped a towel around his waist and opened the door. "Gil? What is it?"

At the sound of his name, Gilbert's eyes flew to him and Matthew was able to watch him go from panicked to relieved, then quickly to worried in the span of about two seconds. Then, even though he was out of breath, he started rambling in German as strode over to Matthew and rested a gentle hand on his shoulder while the other started lightly tracing his injuries.

Matthew closed his eyes at the onslaught of Gilbert's concern, using it to reassure himself that, no, Gilbert wasn't bored with him, wasn't leaving him today. Gilbert cared about him now and that was all that mattered. Matthew didn't regret a single blow he had landed against Roderich.

After that brief moment of reassurance, Matthew grasped the wandering hand and squeezed it lightly. "Sweetheart, I'm okay, but I didn't understand a word you just said." He winced at the rough sound of his voice but it wasn't so bad.

Gilbert seemed to curse in German before asking, "Where else are you hurt?" Gilbert turned his hand over and frowned at the sorry state of his skin before checking the other one.

"I have a bruise on my thigh that is going to look very colorful later, but that's it." His feelings were in pretty bad shape, too, but that wasn't what Gilbert meant.

"Can I see it?"

Matthew sighed and raised his towel a bit. Roderich had been trying to dislocate his knee but wasn't expecting a punch to throw off his aim. If he had been a second later, then he would be having more trouble walking, but that was true in almost any fight. He was faster and probably better trained, so he had been the one to walk out of that bathroom. Still, the bruise was worryingly close to his knee and Gilbert could probably guess what that meant.

Gilbert kneeled in front of him and moved the towel a bit more to get a better look before meeting Matthew's eyes. If the anger in them was anything to go by, Gilbert knew _exactly_ what that bruise represented. "Who did this to you?"

"Would it make you feel better if I said, 'you should see the other guy?'" Matthew tried to joke, hoping to avoid explaining for just a second longer.

"No, not right now." Gilbert stood and cupped his jaw, running his thumb along the uninjured side of his face. "I'm sure I'll see them later. Right now, I want to know who you fought. I also want to know why you fought them so I can try to make you feel better."

Matthew's eyes burned at the statement and he turned away from him, blinking to try and get rid of the unwanted tears. He didn't see the hurt flash across Gilbert's face at the action. Speaking low and trying to control himself, Matthew said, "Let me put something on and I'll explain, okay?"

A moment of tense silence past as Matthew refused to look at Gilbert, waiting for an answer. Then, Gilbert moved to the side and said, "Okay."

"Thanks." Matthew kept his head down as he moved to get a pair of boxers and t-shirt on, trying to wipe his eyes as subtly as possible. He heard Gilbert go into the bathroom and he sighed in relief. He needed to calm down, but it felt like everything was too close. His emotions, what Roderich had said, even Gilbert…they were all too close. He felt like he wasn't in control of what was happening, wasn't in control of himself, and that scared him because he was going to need to be very careful about what he said.

God, what was he going to say? How could he explain it? _Yes, Gil, I beat your ex-love interest to hell and back because he insulted you and hurt my feelings. How did he hurt my feelings? Oh, he said that you would leave me because you were bored. You thought we were past that? Nah, I still think you're going to leave me soon and it hurts constantly. How did he insult you? He called you a whore and said you were dying. Why is that an insult? Because it's not true and he was trying to get me to leave you when I can't and won't. Why not? Because I'm in love with you, you perfect bastard. If I believed in soulmates, you would be mine, but I wouldn't be yours._

That last thought made him freeze mid-motion of drying his hair with the towel. He started moving again and bent his head to hide the horror that he was sure was on his face because he was convinced to his core that utterly depressing thought was true. All the experiences they had had, how much Gilbert had shared with him, what it felt like to be together, none of that mattered at the end of the day. It wasn't just that he thought Gilbert didn't love him, it was that he thought Gilbert _couldn't_ love him. He just simply wasn't enough to make that happen. Gilbert's heart was a game he was never meant to win, a maze he was plopped in the middle of without an exit, in which he would happily reside even though Gilbert would never return his feelings.

He stared at the towel in his hands blankly, mouth parted with heavy breath and vision blurred. He had asked Gilbert, once, something along the lines of if it was better to go to heaven and be cast out or to never see it at all. Gilbert had chosen the former, but they never talked about if paradise was an illusion, something to keep you blissful and occupied while you were ignorant the hellscape around you. Something that you would never voluntarily give up, but you never had at all.

But what did that change for Matthew? Absolutely nothing. No, it made loving Gilbert hurt more, but it still felt better than anything he had experienced before or anything he could imagine was possible.

Right. So, since nothing had changed, Matthew still needed to talk to Gilbert about the fight with Roderich without revealing how hurt he actually was from it. He used the towel to wipe his face and looked at the bathroom door when it opened with a smile.

Gilbert still looked wary and concerned but he approached Matthew anyway. "I looked for a first aid kit and couldn't find one."

"That's—" Matthew had to clear his throat, "—that's fine, angel. I'll heal soon anyway. But thanks for looking." Matthew kissed him on the cheek before moving to sit down at the desk chair. It was only then that he noticed Gilbert was still dressed for the meeting, sans jacket. Considering he was wearing the red and black outfit that usually made Matthew's breath hitch a little every time he saw him, Matthew was reminded just how out of it he was. "Why are you still so dressed up?"

Gilbert raised his eyebrows at him but still reached to undo his onyx cufflinks. "Because I received multiple phone calls from your brother and a text message that only said 'find Mattie' while my phone was on silent. I ran straight here from the meeting room to find you."

Matthew winced. "I'm sorry about that. Alfred has a long history with the aftermath of fights and he owes me a ton of favors, so I called him to help with the clean up since I didn't want to deal with it."

"O-kay. I'm concerned with why he went so far as to call Arthur to reach me in order to send me to you. I didn't get the feeling yesterday he particularly liked me but I guess he also felt like I was the only one who could help you?"

 _Dammit, Alfred_ , he thought. "That's because I fought Roderich earlier because he had been saying."

Gilbert froze halfway through undoing his tie and stared at him. "What?"

Something in Matthew's chest sunk and he looked at the floor. "I know that it wasn't a good reason and I even knew that he was baiting me. I should have—"

"No, no, _Liebling_ , that's not what I meant at all." Gilbert came over to him and gently tilted his chin until their eyes met. "I trust your judgement and if he needed to be fought, I don't doubt you made the right call. I'm worried about what he could have said to you to make fighting the right choice for one as peaceful as you. I'm worried about what he did to you."

 _Fuck, please stop being perfect. This is hard enough as it is._ "Oh." Matthew looked away and took a deep breath, but didn't say anything.

Gilbert trailed his hand up to Matthew's split lip then lightly over the bruise on his cheek. "I'm worried about how his words left you more hurt than you appear."

Matthew inhaled sharply and met Gilbert's eyes to see the truth in them. Then, he quickly stood and strode to the opposite side of the room, knowing it was too late to hide from Gilbert how right he was. He needed to distract him.

"Matthew…"

"It didn't seem like much at first. Roderich approaching me to begin with was strange and I was wary but it was fine at first. His opening move, like some fucked up game of chess, was to apologize about the rude question he asked at the end of our presentation. I acknowledged the apology and tried to remove myself from the situation, but he just kept talking.

"He said that the answer was obvious and he guessed right, Gil. About how my lust infected those people. He asked me how I slept at night, knowing what I had done."

Gilbert gasped and Matthew turned to look at him. He looked outraged. "Birdie, you _know_ that wasn't—"

"Yes, I know. But he still said it. Then he said that it probably helped that you wore me out every night. He called you a slut." Matthew spat the word out, disgusted to even have been in the same room with that man. "That was when I knew he was at least getting punched. But, again, he just _kept talking_.

"He went on and on about how many people you had slept with, like that fucking matters to me. He said you couldn't stay committed for more than six months and I asked if he was baiting me into a fight. He acted like he was trying to help me, something about me being young and inexperienced. Then he said—" Matthew cut himself off, not wanting to repeat those vile words that had sealed Roderich's fate. He was still looking at Gilbert, shaking his head a little, trying to convey that he didn't want to say what happened next.

"Please, Mattie, tell me. I can't help you feel better if you don't tell me what's wrong."

Matthew placed a hand over his mouth and he felt his face scrunch up into one of those grimaces that only happens when ugly sobbing is involved. He got control over himself and looked Gilbert in the eye as he said, "I'm quoting here: 'You have a right to know that the man you're sleeping with is a whore living on borrowed time before you get too attached.'" He let the statement hang in the air before continuing. "I asked him if he was threatening you and he said he didn't need to because you would be mortal soon if you weren't a-already, like it was fucking _inevitable_. He said how I should just let you go now because you get b-bored easily and had s-so many—" Matthew slapped a hand over his mouth but his sob still cut through the air and Gilbert was across the room, gathering him in his arms before another shudder could pass.

"Sorry, sorry. I didn't—"

"Shh, it's okay, _Liebling_. I have you." He ran his hand over Matthew's damp hair and kissed his forehead.

That didn't make it okay but it also did a little. It felt okay for a second, to relax and finish talking so he wouldn't have to anymore. Matthew took a few shuddering breaths and got control of himself once more. He bowed his head to rest against Gilbert's shoulder said, "The last thing he said before I snapped was that you had so many willing partners waiting and heavily implied that you were cheating on me with Alistair."

He felt Gilbert jolt against him in surprise. "What the hell? Mattie, you know I would _never_ —"

"I know that. It was so absurd that I started laughing at him. Then I told him off about slut shaming and explained why he was about to get his ass kicked. Then I kicked his ass until Alfred got there. Hopefully he got the message to leave you the fuck alone."

Gilbert hugged him closer and laughed lightly before kissing his forehead again. "You're amazing, you know that? I'm proud I can call myself your boyfriend."

Good Lord. Matthew ducked and hid his face against him. "Gil!"

"What? It's true. And what do you mean, leave me alone? He's only gone after you, a fact which I _will_ be addressing the next time I see him."

"Gil, I'm no one to him. He wanted to hurt you through me for some reason. He only said the one thing against me out of that whole spiel."

The hand that had been absently rubbing Matthew's back stopped as Gilbert thought about that. "I don't get it. Why did he even bother?"

A thought occurred and Matthew couldn't help tensing. "Did you sleep with him?"

"What?" Gilbert pulled away a little and they looked at each other, Matthew morbidly curious and Gilbert mildly hurt. "No, never. Why do you ask?"

"He talked _a lot_ about your reputation as basically a wanton sex god, Gil. He might be jealous, especially if he was never with you."

Gilbert let go of him, frowning a little. "It probably goes back to what happened yesterday, not me. As far as I know, I don't have a reputation like that. And Roderich would never want me that way, you know that."

Matthew flinched. _That's right. If Roderich had wanted him, Gilbert never would have looked my way_. "Right. How could I forget?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Matthew closed his eyes, cursing himself, and said, "Nothing, alright?"

"No, not alright. The way you said that makes me think you meant something else entirely. So, I'll ask again; what did you mean?"

Matthew opened his eyes and glared at him. "Don't talk to me like a child, Gilbert."

Gilbert sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry, but this is honestly going to bother me. Can you please tell me what you meant?"

Matthew didn't want to fight, but he also did. "I meant that I don't know how I could forget that you would have never have looked at me twice if Roderich had wanted you to begin with. I meant that I'm _fully aware_ that I never would have known you if that idiot had opened his eyes for one goddamn second and saw how perfect you are. I meant that I don't know what you would do if Roderich changed his mind tomorrow." _Oh, shit_. He had not meant to say all that.

Gilbert looked just as shocked as he felt. "What? How can you think that?"

"Because it's true." That came out a lot more devastated than he planned. Then again, he had never planned to say it at all. He turned to walk away before he could say anything else.

Gilbert grabbed his wrist. "No. Don't walk away from me, not like this. Do you really think so little of me?" Matthew turned to see that Gilbert looked just as hurt as he sounded.

"It's more about how little I think of me," he whispered back, turning away once again. With a tug, his wrist was free from Gilbert's suddenly loose hand. He kept his back turned to him and crossed his arms over his stomach, like he was holding himself together. As a moment of silence passed and Matthew couldn't help but wonder, _how did we get here?_

"Matthew, I've always seen you. That wouldn't had changed if someone had properly introduced us two hundred years ago or two days ago. I wouldn't have cheated on Roderich, but I still would have seen you as I did when I first saw you: beautiful and kind. Utterly captivating. I told you that first night we made love that no one compares to you and I still mean it. I'll always mean it."

Matthew's breath caught in his throat and he turned around from halfway across the room to stare at him. "You've never…"

"What? Said that I thought you were beautiful the moment I saw you?"

"You've never said that we made love. You've always said that we fuck each other."

Gilbert looked at him with an expression that Matthew was scared to name. "Matthew, we've _never_ just fucked." They stared at each other, Matthew too floored to say or do anything. Gilbert moved a little closer to him and asked, "What else is bothering you? Why are you trying to push me away?"

 _Because I'm too close_. "You would tell me if you were mortal, right?"

_Will you always mean it?_

Gilbert's jaw clinched like he was internally cursing Roderich to hell and back. "I would tell you, but I'm not. I'm still East Germany as you are Canada and I expect to remain that way for a long time. I just prefer to go by Prussia because my time as the GDR has too much baggage. The cultural divides between different regions mean that the people of Germany may never be truly united the way England or Japan is. More importantly, the impact of Ludwig and I being apart for so long lingers, especially for my people. I would say I won't have to worry about becoming human until the children raised by anyone born before 1985 are dead. If medical knowledge in this century improves as much as it did the last, that could be a very long time."

Matthew sighed as the fear Roderich had planted withered, though a little remained. "That's what I told Roderich: that you were East Germany as Feliciano was North Italy. I wouldn't have left you if you were mortal. It just would have made this hu—" _For the love of all that is holy, can I not_ shut up _tonight?_

"Made this what? And what is 'this?' I need to make sure you're okay, so I want to address everything that's bothering you. You seem to want to say it, anyway."

Matthew clinched his teeth and looked away, thinking frantically something to ask that had nothing to do with what he had been about to say. He doubted _made this hurt more_ would have gone over well. "Are you going home tomorrow?"

"No." Matthew looked at him with surprised happiness. "I'm not going home, I'm going with my brother."

Matthew flinched away, like he was offered candy only to have it snatched away before he could enjoy it. "What the _hell_ , Gilbert? There was no need to—"

"I'm not going home because my home is with you. It is wherever you are. _You_ are my home."

Matthew felt like he had been punched in the gut. He looked at his boyfriend in abject shock and found he wasn't able to breathe for a second. His next breath was harsh and rasping and he didn't know if he should look at Gilbert with horror or hope. He was shaking his head. "You can't say things like that, Gil."

"Why not? It's the truth and I've known it for a while now." Gilbert was almost within touching distance now.

"Because you make me want something I know I can't have."

"And what's that? What would have me being mortal changed?" Gilbert was watching him closely as he stepped into his personal space and Matthew looked away, unable to stand his steady gaze.

"You being mortal would have only made this hurt more than it already does."

"What hurts, _Schätzchen_? What's been bothering you?"

He was backed into a corner that had one way out. Matthew was still scared, but he looked Gilbert in the eye. You had to look people in the eye when you said things like this. "Loving you knowing you can't love me back."

He felt Gilbert stiffen through the small amount of space that separated them at that point. He watched as his eyes widened with shock and then Matthew looked away, moved away, because he had spoken too soon, had driven the man he loved more than he knew how to deal with from him with his rash words.

The feel of Gilbert's hand catching his arm, drawing him back was so unexpected that Matthew didn't have time to put up resistance. His hands found Gilbert's shoulders as a hand on his back pressed them together. Then, low and sincere, Gilbert said in his ear, "Who says I don't love you already?"

Wait.

_What?_

* * *

Gilbert felt Matthew tense against him and heard him make a hurt sound that had him loosening his hold a little, wary of the bruise on his side. He moved so he could see Matthew's face only to find his eyes wide with disbelief. He heard him whisper softly, "What?"

Gilbert frowned and stepped away a little, confused. "Why don't you believe me? I've never lied to you before and I'm not lying now. I love you."

Matthew blinked at him for a moment, like he couldn't process the information. Apprehension flooded Gilbert; this was not the reaction he had hoped for. Had he heard him wrong? Did Matthew not just say he loved him, too? Did he imagine it?

Matthew stared shaking his head and closed his eyes. "I'm sorry, Gilbert." Gilbert felt like his heart had started to freefall, only to be halted by Matthew's next words. "I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't question this, that I should just let myself be ecstatic, but I just can't. It makes no sense. How could someone like you…?"

 _Fucking Christ_. Gilbert was going to find the person or people that had made Matthew have such a low opinion of himself and they were going to have a _conversation_. He stepped away to look at him properly, not even touching him anymore. "Someone like me? You mean broken, useless, irresponsible—"

Matthew glared at him. "Don't talk about yourself that way! It's not true."

"Yes it is, Matthew. I've done more fucked up things in my life than damn near _anyone_ else in the entire world. If anyone should be confused here, it's me. I've been tainted by the things I've done and what's done to me so much that I shouldn't even be allowed to touch you, let alone think that you could love me!"

"Well, I do! And that's absurd. Your past is the past, Gilbert. It affects you but it's not who you are now."

"That's exactly what I _mean_ , Matthew. I'm just a man who happens to be in love with you. I don't understand what's so hard to get about that for you."

"You don't understand? Look in a mirror!"

"I don't need to! And I would rather look at you."

"Then I'm not the only one that needs glasses. You're so far out of my league, we're not even playing the same goddamn sport!"

Gilbert's jaw dropped and he just stared at him. Matthew seemed to realize what he had said. He turned red and looked away, a muscle in his neck jumping visibly. Gilbert caught how shinny his eyes were and realized that Matthew meant every word.

"Unbelievable. Come on, let's go." He didn't expect Matthew to cooperate, but he resisted the urge to pick him up and carry him to their destination. Matthew was being more volatile than Gilbert knew how to handle and they were in the middle of an argument, so erring on the side of caution seemed wise. Instead, he grabbed his hand, careful of the split skin on his joints, and pulled him towards the bathroom. "Have I _ever_ given you the impression that you aren't hot as hell? That I don't think you're the most beautiful person I've ever known?"

Matthew didn't say anything as Gilbert pulled them in front bathroom mirror. He made a noise of frustration when he saw that it was still cloudy from Matthew's shower and he quickly wiped his hand across it to make it usable. He saw that Matthew was watching him with an expression he couldn't read and met his eyes in the mirror. "Have I?"

Matthew shook his head no and looked down. "It's not just that your ridiculously handsome, Gil," he said, quietly. "You're strong, funny, outgoing, and kind. You can do the coolest things and you have so many friends. You draw people in, just by walking into a room. You really are awesome. How could I not love you? But I'm just…me."

How could his words make him feel so damn good as they broke his heart? Gilbert moved to hug him from behind and hold him close. He kissed his temple before saying, " _Liebling.._.Do you know that word has more than one meaning? Do you know what it's derived from?" Matthew shook his head. "Love, Matthew. I've been calling you love for a week. Can you do me a favor, love, and look at yourself in the mirror?"

Matthew looked up, surprised and (finally) like he was starting to believe him. He touched the arms wrapped around his waist and said, "I'm a mess."

"You're the most tempting sight I've ever seen, a little roughed up from defending my honor. I love seeing you undone, whether you're fresh from a shower or when you're screaming my name in bed." Matthew blushed and Gilbert smiled at him. "You're adorable when you blush like that, over something so simple. Matthew, if I was going to list all the reasons I loved you, we would still be standing here when the sun came up. But I will stand here and do it if that's what it will take for you to accept that not only are you worthy of being loved but that I love you very much."

Matthew looked at him for a long moment before he started smiling, looking happier than Gilbert had ever seen him. "You love me."

 _Thank fuck_. "Yes."

He relaxed against him. "I love you, too."

"And don't you forget it. Look, I have something I want to give to you, if that's okay?"

Matthew almost frowned, but he looked too happy for it to really stick. "You're giving me a gift? What is it?"

"You'll see in one second. But can I just point out that our first fight was over the fact that we love each other?"

Gilbert released him and walked to his suitcase to the sound of Matthew's laughter. "Oh, God. It's pretty ridiculous when you put it that way. No one would believe us if they asked."

Gilbert smiled at the sound, but grew nervous as he found the unmistakable rectangular box. No matter what happened, the pendant didn't belong to Gilbert. Still, it felt like pushing his luck, giving Matthew this very concrete symbol of their relationship. By some trick of fate, Matthew loved him back after such a short period of time together. Gilbert had been around long enough to become a good judge on interpersonal dynamics. He had known Ludwig and Feliciano would be a sure thing if his brother just went with it long before they actually came together. He had had a bad feeling about Ivan, but had been desperate enough to ignore it after a certain point. He didn't really think Roderich would have accepted him, but what did he have to lose then?

Him and Matthew? They were real.

That certainty didn't stop the fluttering in his stomach as he walked back to the brightly lit bathroom. Gilbert had already told Matthew he had something for him, so there was no backing out now.

Matthew met his eyes in the mirror with a bright smile and Gilbert took a deep breath before he set the box in front him. _Here we go_.

* * *

"What's this?" Matthew asked as he picked up the black box. It looked like something that would hold a necklace and Matthew felt something shift inside as he moved it.

"You could open it and find out."

Matthew opened and box and his smile slowly faded when he realized what he had in his hand. Attached to a sturdy silver chain was a cross similar to the one Gilbert always wore underneath his clothes. But this one was different. It was special.

Matthew's hand moved to touch the raised black symbols embedded in the cross but he pulled back. The silver edges shone, encasing symbols that Matthew could clearly see. A crown worthy of a coronation ceremony rested above the initials "FW." In the center, there were leaves branching off into separate sections, which probably had some meaning that he couldn't begin to guess at without knowing the type of leaf. What gave him pause and left him awed was the date at the bottom: 1813.

"Gil, what is this?" Matthew looked over to see Gilbert watching him nervously.

"It's an Iron Cross, like the one around my neck. Well, not exactly. West and I wear Second Class medals, because we've always identified more with the common soldier. That, however, is a Grand Cross of the Iron Cross. It was one of the first ever made. Only five of those were given out to humans during that particular war. I was given a sixth, off the record. It's one of the few things I've managed to hold on to through the centuries. It's yours."

"I…this is too much, Gil. This is too important. Why would you give this to me?"

"It's almost always been yours. When I first got that, Ludwig was on bedrest from all the fighting, still too weak to really stand his ground. When I showed it to him, he was mentally in a bad place, feeling guilty for being frail and not being able to help. I told him that there would be more wars, wars that we would win together, more medals to be earned. Then, when all the wars had been fought, there would be peace because we would be too powerful for anyone to even think of attacking us. Then, we could have a future full of soft things that neither of us had been able to hold onto before.

"It was his idea to give our highest ranking medals, the ones that took the most work to earn, to the people we chose to share our futures with. He said it was poetic, to give something we worked so hard for, we suffered for, to the people we loved. To know that all of our work had got us to a place where we could be happy with them. Ludwig earned his in 1870 and that's the date on the cross that Feliciano has. The cross in your hand has been yours for almost two centuries. I'm only just finding you to deliver it."

Matthew stared at him, lips parted and eyes burning. What could he even say to that? What could follow a declaration like that? Matthew had nothing to give back and the gravity of what Gilbert was saying left him speechless.

Gilbert apparently didn't know how to deal with Matthew's silence and he looked down. "You don't have to wear it. I realize it's archaic and arrogant now to ask you to wear my symbol around your neck." He winced. "Yeah, that sounded worse out loud than it did in my head. You don't have to do anything with it. I just ask that you take it."

The answer to what Matthew should say came fast and seemed so obvious to him. "Could you put it on me, please?"

Gilbert looked up at him quickly. "You'll wear it?"

Matthew smiled at him. "Why wouldn't I? It's a constant reminder that you're mine."

"And anyone who looks at you will know you're mine."

"Sounds perfect." Their eyes caught and suddenly the room was a little warmer. Matthew bit his lip, wincing a little since he forgot it was bleeding not that long ago. Gilbert moved closer than a necessary to take the necklace out of the box. Gilbert fiddled with the clasp for only a second before stepping behind him with Matthew facing the mirror. He gathered his hair and bent his head a little to make it easier for Gilbert to fasten the chain.

His breath caught as he felt Gilbert brush a kiss against back of his neck. Then he straightened and stepped closer to reach around Matthew and the heat from his body, so close but not touching him, was seeping through the single layer of clothes he was wearing. His breathing deepened.

Then Matthew felt the cool metal press against the front of his neck and he couldn't have helped his response if he had tried. He had never brought it up because of what Gilbert said his hard limits were, but one of his biggest kinks was just the slightest hint of breath play. Not outright asphyxiation (which he had tried and that had led to _trouble_ but that was a whole other story), but just a hand that made its presence known around the front of his neck, not choking just squeezing a little. It made him feel vulnerable but safe at the same time, because only people with his utmost trust evoked the feeling that had him gasping silently as his eyes fluttered closed and his jaw slackened. He tried to control himself, but it had been too long.

There was a click of the clasp and the slight tug on his neck disappeared. Matthew sighed in relief then lifted his head, lowered his arms, and opened his eyes to see Gilbert staring at him. His eyes were jumping between the cross that rested on the top of his sternum, stark against the white of his t-shirt, and his face that looked a far cry more flushed then it was before. _Shit_.

"Something you want to tell me?" His hands came to rest on Matthew's clothed hips and he planted a kiss on Matthew's shoulder, still watching him. His voice was low and rough.

Matthew met his eyes and licked his lips. "No."

Gilbert held his gaze and smirked. "Are you sure? Cause I have some things I want to tell you." One of Gilbert's hands started moving across his torso, his touch slowly switching between feather light fingertips to the slight pressure of his hand splayed across him. He pressed another kiss to his shoulder, only a fraction of an inch closer to his neck.

Considering the situation, Matthew was proud to say he only sounded the tiniest bit breathy when he asked, "What's that?"

Gilbert kissed where his t-shirt met his skin and Matthew tilted his head away. "For one, you wear my symbol well. It looks good against this white fabric. I can't wait to see how much better it looks against your flushed skin." Gilbert bit at the base of his neck, where the chain rested, and Matthew made a small sound for him.

"For another: I don't care how medieval I sound. I want to fuck you while you're wearing only this necklace until you forget your own name." Gilbert started pressing slow, sucking kisses up his neck and Matthew was able to watch each little red mark appear and stay as he went.

"Yes, please." Gilbert stopped and looked up to meet his eyes. Smirking he straightened and moved forward to press them together, making his desire known if it wasn't clear enough already. His hand slowly started moving up his body from where it had been toying with the fabric right above where his boxers started.

"That's good, Matthew. Happy to hear we're on the same page. I have just one more thing to say."

Matthew's breath was uneven as Gilbert waited for him to respond and toyed with the medal hanging from his neck, marking him as Gilbert's and Gilbert as his. "What is it?"

Gilbert put his mouth to Matthew's ear and his hand came to rest solidly against his neck. He whispered, "I think I found another one of your kinks."

Gilbert must have felt his pulse jump even before he moaned. He rocked against him and said, " _Fuck._ But, wait, you said…"

"No breath play. I'm not ever going to restrict either your air or blood flow. I'm never going to choke you, not even a little. But I can rest my hand against your neck and feel you breathe and how your pulse jumps when I touch you. I can give you something of what you need. Is it enough?"

"Oh, my _God_ , yes!"

Gilbert chuckled lowly and nipped at his earlobe. "You're so enthusiastic, so sensitive. I want to kiss you and fuck you against that wall in front of this mirror, but you're hurt."

 _Oh, hell no._ "I'm not that hurt. Whatever you do will not make any of this worse. And, Gil, I think you're forgetting something." Matthew smiled mischievously and turned his head towards Gilbert.

The hand on his hip squeezed a little as he said, "And what's that, my love?"

Matthew took a sharp breath and turned completely around so that they were facing each other. "Say that again."

Gilbert's look became less predatory, more caring as he said, " _My love_ , what am I forgetting?"

Matthew deliberately bit down on his lip and moaned, a sound that had Gilbert moving against him. Yep, they were far enough along that this was the exact opposite of a problem. "I like pain."

Matthew closed the small distance between them and kissed a momentarily stunned Gilbert. When Matthew's used his teeth to tug a little at his bottom lip, he made a small sound and kissed him back.

Matthew wasn't interested in taking his time, not tonight. Gilbert loved him, had given him something more concrete than fucking wedding vows, and was going to be a world away by tomorrow evening. He needed Gilbert inside of him ten minutes ago. He hopped up to sit on the counter and wrapped his legs around him as his fingers worked frantically to get all those damn buttons undone, tie already torn off. They were still kissing at a surprisingly slow pace considering how busy their hands were. Gilbert was out of his waistcoat and working on the top buttons of his shirt while Matthew worked from the bottom. If he wasn't so damn fond of the outfit, Matthew would have just ripped it off him.

Finally, the dress shirt fell to the floor and Matthew had no qualms about using both hands to rip the undershirt to shreds.

Gilbert laughed into his mouth as he pointedly started raising his shirt, forcing them to break the kiss. "You have something against my shirts?"

"They're in my way." Matthew said with a smile as his hands reached to undo Gilbert's pants. His eyes took in the mouth-watering sight that was his chosen and he couldn't help but to lean forward and kiss the simpler cross around his neck. Gilbert's hand on his face made him look up and see that he was staring down at him with an odd look on his face. "What?"

"You're gorgeous. And the cross does look perfect against your skin. Maybe you should stop wearing a shirt when it's just us?'

Matthew laughed with him as he pushed down Gilbert's pants and boxers in one motion. "It would have to be a shared policy and we would never get anything done, Gil." He pushed Gilbert back a little so he wouldn't have to rip his underwear to scraps just to get it off.

"Sure we would." Gilbert helped him stand then helped him get naked. Matthew walked into him and they kissed, both groaning at the feeling of being bare together. When they came up for air he said, "I have an idea."

"You always have the best ideas. Tell me during prep? We need to find the lube."

"It's in my suitcase. Hold on." Gilbert stepped away and a thought occurred.

Matthew grinned before calling out, "Hurry back or I'll start without you."

Gilbert froze at the door, looking ridiculously hot but unbelievably adorable in nothing but his necklace and socks. "What?" Matthew stuck two fingers in his mouth and started sucking before he winked at him. "Fucking hell." That got him moving.

Matthew heard mumbled curses from the other room and muted sounds of clothes hitting the floor. He smiled and reached down, leaving his neglected hard-on for his lover to take care of. The sooner he was ready to take Gilbert, the better. Also, he loved teasing him. He turned to face the mirror and used one hand to support himself against the counter while the other worked to widen his entrance. Gilbert's curses were getting increasingly inventive and Matthew moaned at the slight burn of the stretch.

"Dammit, Matthew, I'm coming!"

"Not yet you ar—ah!"

"Found it! I can't believe—holy shit."

Matthew's eyes had fallen closed at some point in the process. Now, he opened them, seeing first his face, eyes heavy-lidded and damn near black behind his glasses from arousal, his lips red, swollen and parted in his panting, cheeks flushed. Then he saw the cross hanging in front of him. Only then did his eyes find Gilbert, sans socks, leaning against the doorframe with one hand holding the elusive bottle of lube and the other lazily stroking himself while he stared at Matthew.

"Don't just stand there, Gil. Help."

"In one minute. If I go over there, I'll forget to run my idea by you and it's too good to postpone. Do you have any clue what you look like right now? With your fingers working your ass to get you ready for me, with your face so pleasured but still so desperate for me? I can see your eyes following my hand, Mattie. I can see how much you want my dick."

Matthew moved his eyes to Gilbert's face and did his best to glare. "Then give it to me. Get over here and _fuck me_ , Gil."

"So you don't want to know about my idea that will satisfy both my need to give you nothing but pleasure and your desire for pain?"

Matthew stopped moving then groaned as he pulled his fingers from himself. He just breathed for a moment before straightening and turning around. "I'm listening, but at least give me the lube so I can actually prep myself. I want you inside me as soon as possible."

Gilbert seemed to stop breathing for a second before he groaned. "Fuck, Matthew. I'll be quick, then, because I want to do it." He stopped stroking himself to rub the bottle between his hands, warming its contents. "I give you so much pleasure it hurts, but you have to let me do it. I only stop at your safeword, not 'no' because I can imagine you saying that a lot without actually wanting me to stop if I do this right."

Okay, that sounded great. Matthew licked his lips. "Denial, delay, or oversensitivity?"

Gilbert grinned at him. "Serious delay. You know I would never deny you pleasure. Though if you _prefer_ oversensitivity, I could be persuaded. Watching you come over and over sounds like a good time."

A choice between coming much later than necessary or being forced to come too much? "Delay. Usual safewords good?"

"Yeah."

Matthew took off his glasses so they wouldn't get in the way and smirked at him. "Perfect. I love you. Could you get back to fucking me now, please?"

Gilbert approached him with a grin, saying a quick "I love you" before kissing him senseless. His hands went to Matthew's thighs and he jumped a little to wrap his legs around him, gasping at the sensation. When he felt slicked fingers brush against him, Matthew made an eager noise and tried to climb him just a little higher.

Gilbert growled into his mouth when Matthew was able to take two of his fingers easily. Matthew laughed a little and pulled back to say, "Told you to hurry up."

Gilbert just stared at him heatedly before pointedly teasing his prostate. Matthew moaned and laid his head to rest against Gilbert's shoulder when he didn't stop. Gilbert then said, "You're playing with fire, _Schätzchen._ "

"Burn me, then." Matthew bit his shoulder and felt them moving until his back slammed into a wall with slightly textured wallpaper. He gasped and realized that Gilbert had managed to slip in another finger while he was distracted. He straightened his neck only for Gilbert to attach himself to it briefly, just long enough to leave a mark.

When he pulled back, he said, "As you wish." Matthew's eyes widened and he groaned as Gilbert removed his hand to line himself up.

He paused like he always did when they were just starting and Matthew nodded frantically, "Please." Gilbert's hands guided him down slowly and Matthew started making those high, breathy sounds that always sounded so desperate and never failed to make Gilbert shudder a little. Matthew turned his head a little towards the mirror and watched Gilbert enter him with only slightly blurry vision. Even without his glasses, he could see how every muscle in Gilbert's body was straining to control himself, how sweat had started to bead along his sides, how his body greedily accepted him inch by inch and Matthew couldn't help but claw his fingers into Gilbert's shoulders. " _Fuck_."

When they paused once they were as close as possible, Matthew moaned at the same feeling of _rightness_ that always flooded him when they came together. He watched as Gilbert lifted his head to look at him with so much love that he couldn't believe it took them yelling at each other for him to get it. Then Gilbert followed his gaze and met his eyes in the mirror with a smirk. One of his hands stroked down Matthew's side while the other maintained its wonderfully bruising grip on his uninjured thigh. "That's right, Matthew. Watch me fuck you and tell me when you're getting close."

Matthew nodded again and turned to kiss him as Gilbert started withdrawing from him. He pulled back after a moment and smiled at him as he ran a hand through his hair. "I love you."

Gilbert stopped moving to kiss him again, slow and lingering. When they were both breathing too hard to continue, Gilbert whispered, "I love you, too." Then he drove back into him and Matthew knocked his head against the wall with a cry.

One of the things (besides the emotions involved) that made having sex with Gilbert better than anything he had done before with someone else was how fucking _strong_ he was. Matthew knew he wouldn't hurt him, but he was the first person he had been with that _could._ The more Gilbert made him feel and the more Matthew watched, the weaker his arms got, to the point that Gilbert was damn near holding his weight with one hand while the other never stopped touching him. He felt the force behind every thrust that was slowly driving him insane from pleasure when a human would have had to be driven to the hospital. When Gilbert bit him on the shoulder, just this side of drawing blood, Matthew screamed and the sound bounced back at him from the mirror. That's when he remembered where they were.

Panting, Matthew said, "Shit. I have to be quiet."

Gilbert hit his prostate again and he let out a choked off cry. "No, you don't."

"The walls. How thin?" Matthew had to close his eyes and look away from the sight of them moving together. "Gil, I'm close."

"I know. You're body always tells me before you do. And let them hear."

Gilbert didn't stop and Matthew made a strangled sound. "Gil, oh God, fuck, I'm—"

Gilbert stopped moving, still deep inside him, and Matthew arched his back, his body still expecting to go over that edge. When Gilbert only breathed heavily and laid soft kisses on his neck, Matthew covered his mouth and screamed his frustration. The pain of this temporary denial burned and his eyes stung with tears.

After a moment, he calmed and opened his eyes to see Gilbert watching him carefully. He smiled weakly at him and kissed him softly. "I'm okay. You cut that a little close though."

Gilbert grinned at him. "I cut it exactly as close as I intended." Not bothering to pull out, Gilbert started carrying him out of the room, taking the lube with him. When Matthew shuddered, he laughed. "Calm down, love. We're only just getting started."

Matthew smiled down at him until Gilbert's reflection caught his eye. Red lines that were almost welts ran down his back, one or two spots at his shoulders showing where he at broken the skin. "Your back. I'm sorry, angel. I didn't mean to hurt you."

Gilbert shook his head and hit the light on the way out. "This isn't hurt, _Schätzchen._ This is a sign that I'm doing this right. I can barely feel them. Now…" Gilbert turned on the bedside lamp and turned down the comforter with Matthew hanging on to him for dear life, making small sounds every time Gilbert shifted inside him. Gilbert climbed into the bed carefully and pressed Matthew into the mattress with a sigh. He used his hands to coax Matthew to uncross his legs from behind him and pushed them gently until his knees were on his shoulders. By the time Gilbert had him where he wanted him, Matthew was covering his mouth to muffle his voice at the new, deeper angle. Gilbert had to pause to breathe for a second, but before long he was smirking down at Matthew, saying, "Where were we?"

 _Oh. Shit._ Matthew may have bitten off more than he could chew.

* * *

"God. _Fucking. Dammit!_ " Matthew screamed beneath him into the mattress after Gilbert had stopped him from orgasming for the fourth time. Gilbert felt a little like cursing, too. He was good at controlling himself, but there were limits.

Instead, he ran soothing hands along Matthew's sides and kissed his back softly. He pulled out of him with a wince and had Matthew roll onto his back. Matthew went easily and situated himself before Gilbert with his teeth clinched together and his hands fisted in the sheets. His chest was heaving with the force of his breath, causing the medal he wore to move with him. His knees were bent and parted so Gilbert could see all of him, though Matthew probably meant it as a sign to get back to fucking him. First, he had to make sure he was doing alright.

"Check in with me, Mattie. How are you doing?"

Matthew raised his eyebrows at him and laughed breathlessly with a wide smile. "How am I doing? Fucking fantastic, actually. Best idea ever. How about you?" His eyes moved over him and he frowned a little before sitting up.

"I'm okay. I need a second, though."

"Okay." Matthew kissed him then said, "You don't have to stop yourself, sweetheart. The delaying was meant for me, not you. There's no need for you to be hurting, angel."

Gilbert smiled at him. "Couldn't you have said that twenty minutes ago? I was afraid you would kill me if I came before you did."

"I would both love you and hate you for it in that moment, but I wouldn't kill you."

"I'll remember that for the next time we do this. But today, I'll come when you do so I'll know a little of what it feels like when I do this."

Matthew frowned harder and ran a hand along his thigh. "But I _like_ pain, you don't."

"It's the principle of the thing. But you remember Tuesday? When you lost our bet and let me fuck you for as long as I could?"

A surge of pride went through Gilbert as he watched Matthew's eyes close and his breathing hitch at just the memory. "Yeah, I remember. I was lucky I could walk into work on Wednesday."

Gilbert didn't want to tell him that he had been walking funny for the first hour or wincing (only to smirk a little right after) every time he sat down until 11 that day. "That's what this feels like."

Matthew nodded and said, "Okay. Wait, shit. Are you going to do this to me for that long?" A look that was equal parts happy anticipation and utter distress overtook his face.

Gilbert laughed and gave him a peck on the nose for being kinky and cute. "No, _Liebling_ , not today. You ready to go again?"

Matthew licked his lips and stared at Gilbert's mouth. "Yeah."

Gilbert kissed him, pushing enough to get them horizontal once more. Gilbert knew exactly what he wanted to do to Matthew the next two rounds, and how angry Matthew was going to be when he stopped him _just before_ he came again. It started with Matthew begging him to start fucking him again, then begging him not to fuck him just yet. He would let them both find release after this, but first…

Gilbert pulled away from him with a smirk and Matthew's eyes widened. "Oh, no. I know what that look means. What are you doing?"

"Me? Nothing, yet."

When Matthew started looking alarmed, Gilbert just smiled and kissed his neck gently. "Gil…"

"You know, Matthew, I love you for a lot of reasons." He started systematically kissing lightly every mark he had left on Matthew's skin before that point while he reached for the bottle of lubricant.

"I love you, too, but what are you doing with that bottle, Gilbert? You know I don't need any."

He knew that, but he was going to just keep on kissing along his skin. "90% of the reasons I love you have nothing to do with sex, but that still means it's a pretty damn long list." He had reached where Matthew's cross rested against him and Gilbert quickly leveled himself up to kiss Matthew on the lips again, still blown away that he not only agreed to take it but _wanted to wear it_. He resumed his previous trajectory, opening the bottle of lube with one hand.

Matthew rolled his hips against his stomach and whined. His hands ran through Gilbert's hair and along his upper back. "Gil, please tell me you'll start fucking me again before you list all of them."

Gilbert grinned at him and kissed down his sides while he did what he needed to with the bottle and set it to the side. "For example, I love how adventurous you are and how much you unapologetically love sex, especially with me. I love how responsive you are, from start to finish." Gilbert was hallway down his torso when two of his fingers started teasing Matthew's entrance, causing him to squirm.

"Whoa, wait a second. I meant fuck me with your dick, not your fingers." Even still, his hips moved like he was trying to force Gilbert's fingers inside him, but Gilbert was being uncooperative at the moment.

"I love how impatient you are whenever you want my dick inside you." Matthew glared at him and Gilbert gave him his fingers so he would stop giving him the stink eye. It worked. Even though Gilbert knew Matthew could probably take all of him without even a wince, his ass tightened around his fingers like Gilbert hadn't been riding him hard ten minutes prior. "Fuck, Mattie, calm down."

" _You_ calm down. I want you bad, so sue me." For that, Gilbert targeted his sweet spot and got a choked off cry in response.

"I love how patient you were with me when I was the one begging." Matthew looked at him and smiled softly before shuddering in pleasure again as Gilbert never stopped moving his hand. Gilbert grabbed each of his hands in turn and kissed each injured knuckle before he got to the fresher marks on his wrists from when Gilbert had held him down during round three. Then he moved lower to kiss at the marks on Matthew's hips. "I love the way you never stop yourself from saying what you want or being as wicked as you please. I love it when I can watch your eyes darken in public when I didn't mean to do anything, when you want me randomly just because I'm me."

Matthew gasped and tried to roll his hips but Gilbert's idle hand held him down while he kissed the bruises on his inner thighs. "Fuck, sweetheart. Of course I always want you. Please, please, fuck me. I want to feel you. Come on, angel, please?"

 _There we go_. "I will, _Liebling,_ I promise. I can never stay away for long." Gilbert smirked at him before moving down. "But for now…"

Gilbert took Matthew in his mouth and went down as far as he could. A shout made it out of Matthew before his hand covered his mouth. The hand stayed as Gilbert got to work trying to get his boyfriend to the edge, his mouth pulling every trick he knew and his fingers keeping up a steady rhythm. Gilbert sorely wished he do could do everything that had Matthew screaming they while were back home, without someone on just the other side of the wall, but the muffled sounds that managed to escape were still damn satisfying.

Whoops, time to stop.

At once, Gilbert pulled off and removed his fingers. He watched Matthew give him an outraged look, shaking his head no, and Gilbert smiled at him. Matthew's back arched and he moved his hips purposefully, trying desperately to get that last bit of friction to push him over that Gilbert denied him. Still, he screamed.

It only took a moment or two for him to calm and give Gilbert the perfect opportunity to say, "Mattie, I can honestly say that just from this past hour or so, I have everything I need to make the nights I'll be missing you more bearable. It won't do much to help during the day, but I'll take what I can get."

Matthew just stared at him for a second, breathing heavily, before removing his hand from his mouth. "I don't know what to do with that statement, Gil. It's at once incredibly sweet, kinda depressing, utterly flattering, and very arousing. Also, what the hell?"

"Shouldn't I be asking that?" Gilbert said lowly, crawling forward a little to lean over him. "You didn't warn me that time, _Liebling_. I had to go by the feel of you convulsing around my fingers and the taste of your dick." He licked at his mouth and Matthew pulled him down to kiss him properly, tasting himself and driving Gilbert a little insane at the knowledge. "I _love_ it when you kiss me so damn hungrily after I've gone down on you."

Matthew smirked. "I know. Do you love it enough to fuck me now?"

Gilbert pretended to consider it. "Yes."

As quickly as he could, he slid home. Matthew threw his head back and wasn't fast enough to muffle his shout. "Fuck, yes!"

Gilbert set a hard, fast pace that had Matthew scrambling against him and voicing his approval as quietly as he could considering the circumstances. Gilbert was much quieter than usual, keeping up the mantra _just once more, just once more, just once more_ in his head.

"Please, _please,_ let me come. It _hurts_ but you feel so goddamn _good,_ Gil. No, no, please, let me—"

Carefully, lightly, he laid a hand on the front of Matthew's neck. He was happy was able to do this small thing for him, something that was the very edge of his limits, because he got to watch Matthew lose it at the light touch. His eyes flew open before rolling into his head and Gilbert felt his already fast pulse stutter a bit before racing. He let out a long, broken moan, one Gilbert had only heard him make when he was coming. In an instant, Gilbert could tell Matthew had gone from _God, this feels good_ to _really fucking close_.

He reminded himself why he wasn't giving Matthew the best orgasm of his life right that second by imagining his reaction when he finally got to do what he had been working up to. In the end, that image was the only thing keeping him from giving in to Matthew's pleas.

"Fuck, I'm close, please, please, Gil."

Gilbert moved his hand to grip Matthew's hips, laid his head on his shoulder, and _stopped_.

"No, no, _no, NO!_ _You can't just DO that then-!_ _Fucking hell, Gilbert! Let me come!"_

Out of breath but being who he is, Gilbert couldn't help but to laugh darkly in Matthew's ear and say, " _No_."

Matthew wordlessly whined, a loud sound considering he kept his jaw clinched through it. He breathed through it and Gilbert kissed lightly along his neck.

A minute later, Matthew turned his head and kissed him. He used a hand to wipe at the sweat on Gilbert's brow and smiled at him. "You know, I damn near came when you told me that? You should be careful with that voice of yours."

Gilbert smiled back. "I know. You okay?"

Matthew quirked his lips to the side and Gilbert let him move against him. The both groaned at the feeling and Matthew said, "I'm perfect, but I'm going to get back at you for that one. That was _not_ fair."

"I look forward to it."

"Can I ride you this time?"

Gilbert grinned at him. "Maybe later."

"Why? You've got something planned?"

Gilbert reached up to lightly touch Matthew's bruised cheek and his utterly swollen but almost healed lip. "Yes, I do."

Gilbert took a deep, steadying breath before he kissed him and then lifted himself to be balanced on his hands. Matthew looked up at him, running his hand along him lightly and frowning a bit, like he knew Gilbert wasn't saying something. Gilbert started moving.

He let himself set the slow, deep pace first before he did anything else. It didn't take Matthew long to catch on. He widened his eyes and said a little desperately, "No, Gil. Not like this. I won't be able to stop if you do this."

Gilbert nodded. "I know. You can come when you're ready."

Matthew gasped and stared up at him. His only other reaction was to start moving with him.

 _God, he's so perfect_. Gilbert gasped out, still short on breath but needing to do this, "I love you for the humming you do in the kitchen when you think I can't hear you."

Matthew seemed to stop breathing for a second and his hips fell off rhythm for a second. His hand flew to his mouth once more, but only as an expression of surprise rather than a gag. "Gilbert—"

"I love you for the way your hair looks like electrum in moonlight and for the way you blush at the little things."

Matthew's eyes started watering and didn't stop. "I'm okay," he quickly reassured him. Then he said, "I love you for the way you hold me while we sleep, with a hand on my back to keep me close and safe."

Gilbert groaned and he had to shake his head to clear it. He hadn't been expected Matthew to join him. "Matthew, please, I can't—"

"You can. I love you for how selfless you are and how you never give up. I've always loved red, but your eyes are the prettiest color I've ever seen. I love looking into them and knowing that you see me back."

 _Well, fuck me._ "I love you for how capable you are, how generous, how welcoming. For how you defend me. For how you've given me my first real home in decades."

Matthew made a sound that was between a sob and a moan. He reached up to pull Gilbert down. "Kiss me."

He did, aware that he was slowly losing control of himself. Matthew wrapped his legs around him and he made a myriad of pleasure sounds into his mouth. Eventually, Gilbert had to break away to breathe. He closed his eyes and groaned as he forced himself to keep moving until Matthew came. He rested his forehead on his love's shoulder, saying, "Fuck, Matthew."

Matthew drew in a harsh breath and keened. Then, clearly on the edge he said, "I love you for you."

Gilbert's hands gripped the sheets and asked, words strained, "Are you—"

" _God_ , yes. Come with me." He moved a hand firmly over his mouth in anticipation.

Gilbert let out a sigh of relief and let his body drive into Matthew harder and faster. He looked up at him and smirked. "As you wish."

Matthew was screaming into his hand before the last word was uttered. Gilbert felt Matthew come around him, against him, and he let out a scream of his own before biting Matthew's shoulder. When he did, Matthew's legs tightened around him and the hand that wasn't covering his mouth opened the skin on his back. Gilbert released him when he tasted blood but kept making hurt sounds, struggling to remember to breathe as his orgasm consumed him even still. Black spots danced amidst the white that had overcome his vision and he shook his head to clear it. Matthew, at some point, went limp and stopped screaming.

When he finally came back to himself, Gilbert took a moment to breathe while nuzzling into Matthew's neck. He had just quieted the moment before and was still shaking beneath him. "Hey, _Liebling._ You okay?"

Matthew nodded slowly but said, voice scratchy but blissed out, "Pick a different word."

"Great? Amazing? Mind-blown?" Gilbert teased.

Matthew laughed lightly. "Gil, I'm pretty sure I blacked out for a second."

Gilbert moved to look him in the face. "You're joking."

Matthew opened his eyes a little, small smile on his face, and he raised an eyebrow lazily before closing his eyes again and relaxing. "Sweetheart, I can't feel my legs, my hands are tingling, and my ears are ringing a little. I'm pretty sure I lost touch for moment. Congrats."

"Fuck." Gilbert relaxed back against him and his body started to let him know that he may have overdid it, just a little. Everything ached and his back stung, but he was still riding high on his afterglow so it was a distant pain. _Worth it_.

Matthew's stomach made a worrying sound and Gilbert remembered that neither of them had eaten since lunch. Also, judging from how hard both of them came, clean up was going to be a priority. He looked at the clock. Great, dinner time. The kitchen would be swamped, but maybe that was just what they needed. "Hey, Birdie?"

"Yes, angel?"

"Do you want room service?"

"Sure. You know what I like."

"Great." Gilbert reached over to the phone and barely made it.

"Gil, you can't call while you're still insi—no, you know what? I don't even care. Do what you want."

Gilbert looked at him and Matthew was still smiling to himself, had even started humming softly. He picked up the phone and thought, _I think I broke my boyfriend._

* * *

"I still can't believe what he said to him," Alfred groaned as he looked down at his half eaten hamburger. He had lost his appetite. It had taken about an hour to have Roderich explain what he had said to Matthew to Arthur and Alistair, give the bastard one hell of a _Come to Jesus_ talk, get him reasonably patched up, and arrange for someone to clean up the blood.

Okay, Arthur had patched him up. Alfred would have hurt him if he touched him and Alistair looked like he had just been asked to dive into a New York sewer for shits and giggles. Matthew had done a number on him: mild concussion, three fractured ribs, dislocated shoulder, broken wrist, broken nose, and one sprained ankle. It would all be healed within about three weeks and he would be able to walk into the meeting tomorrow if he stayed off that ankle. Arthur had asked him who he trusted to take care of him and he had him call Vash.

Alfred didn't know what to expect from the one nation that loved guns as much as he did, but Vash had been surprisingly…unsurprised. He had walked in, looked around, and asked two questions to Roderich.

"They do this to you?"

"No."

"You deserve this?" That question had risen everyone's eyebrows but he guessed they had a past.

Roderich had looked between all of them before closing his eyes and nodding. "Yes, actually. I did. I stepped over a line and, as they colorfully put it, 'someone kicked my ass back over it.' No, I won't explain."

Vash had nodded and said, "Good enough. I'll take him."

Alistair…Alfred didn't know what to think of him besides be naturally cautious and he wasn't careful around a lot. He didn't say a word when he and Arthur had arrived. He had just stared at Roderich when they first came in and Roderich had paled when he saw him. He didn't say anything, but the chill coming from him was practically palpable. Hey, maybe he could finally tell Kiku he had learned to read the air!

Anyway, Alistair only spoke when Alfred had mentioned needing a clean-up crew. He said he would handle it before stepping out of the room. Arthur looked just as clueless but he also said, "I don't know and don't _want_ to know what connections my brother has. He had the resources to hack into nearly everyone's computer in a month. I wouldn't put anything past him, honestly."

Alistair had come back with Vash and said that he would wait for a clean-up crew to arrive and that he would handle Gilbert's side of things. "Gilly's takin' care of Mattie. I'll take care of everythin' else for 'em."

So Alfred and Arthur had been free to go to dinner, but everything still weighted on his mind. "Like, seriously, why the fuck would you tell someone who never did anything to anyone that his boyfriend was going to leave him and die soon? That's fucked up. Mattie's practically a saint; he didn't deserve that."

Arthur had finished his meal and motioned for the check to be brought. "I agree, it was rather cruel. But everyone dies, Alfred. Even us." He frowned like he was remembering something then shook his head. "Regardless, Matthew won't have to worry about Gilbert dying for a long time. Are you not eating, love?"

"Yeah, no, I'm not hungry anymore. And are you sure, Artie? Cause Roderich is a dick, but he's a smart dick, too."

"I'm sure of it," He said green eyes serious as he paid the bill.

Alfred nodded. "I trust you to know. And that's really good, 'cause Mattie loves him and he deserves to be with someone he loves. I kinda want to check on him, though."

Arthur looked at him like he was startled then his face softened into what Alfred liked to think is his _I love you in a super sappy way_ face. "I didn't realize things were that serious. Would you like go for ice cream after? It might make you feel better."

Alfred pretended to sniffle. "That's so sweet. I love you, too."

Arthur rolled his eyes at him but Alfred could tell he was fighting a smile. "Do you want the ice cream or not?"

They made their way upstairs, but when the elevator doors opened, Arthur went stiff next to him and put a hand out to stop him. "I did _not_ think this through. We should check on him later."

Alfred frowned. It had been more than an hour since he sent Gilbert to find Matthew and they were probably in their room. "What? No. Come on before the doors close." He dragged them out and down the hall. "Which room?"

"Fifth to the left but _think,_ Alfred. Matthew is dating _Gilbert_ of all people."

"And? What does have to do with anything?"

"Look, Roderich was awful, but what he said about—"

"No, no, _no, NO!_ _You can't just DO that then-!_ "

"Oh, shite," Arthur said.

"Wait, is that Mattie!?" Alfred raised a hand to pound on the door.

" _Fucking hell, Gilbert! Let me come!"_

Pure horror. That is what Alfred felt as he froze mid-motion and stared at the door in front of him. A high-pitched whine had him all but running to the elevator, his skin trying to crawl off of his back. Arthur sighed and followed him, cringing a little. "No ice cream then?"

"I need to take a shower but I do _not_ want to walk past there again."

"How about we go down a floor and take the back stairs up?"

"Bless you."

* * *

Matthew sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose as he psyched himself up for the phone call he was about to make. Their food was on its way and they had showered, but what he had done to Gilbert's back presented a problem. Matthew had fretted when he saw how much Gilbert was bleeding from the long scrapes down his back, but he had just kissed him and said it didn't bother him at all. But it bothered Matthew that some of them were still bleeding and should really be looked at.

Thinking back everything they had done, it was a miracle the sheets were only mildly bloodstained. Those, he had taken care of easily. He had already called the front desk to ask for new ones to be brought up ("No thanks, we'll change them ourselves.") and apparently ruining sheets was something Berwald's contingency fund covered. The receptionist also happily informed him that all the rooms on his floor were soundproof, so no one would hear them unless they were standing right outside the door. She also apologized because but all the first aid kits were currently in use without being prompted. He had thanked her profusely and said that they would manage, red-faced and a little in awe of Berwald's planning skills. He should send him a fruit basket or something.

Matthew knew one person who always traveled with a first aid kit: Arthur, who was very aware of how accident prone Alfred could be. But asking him to lend his medical supplies to him because he had fucked up Gilbert's back during sex seemed sounded about as appealing as a root canal. But his boyfriend was bleeding. He hit his name on his phone and waited.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Arthur, it's Matthew. I'm sorry to bother you, but would you mind if I borrowed your first aid kit?"

"You need…my _first aid kit_?" He sounded like he was choking, though Matthew had no idea why. It also sound like someone was screaming _why me_ in the background, but that was probably the television.

"Yeah. Um, I'm fine and I understand if you're not with your luggage; we would manage! But I would really prefer to use actual antiseptic and gauze."

Arthur sighed. "I'm in my room: 1443. Keep it as long as you need."

"Thank you! I'll be there in a second." He turned to Gilbert who was laying on his stomach in the bed in a pair of boxers, watching him with a bemused expression. "I'll be right back"

"Okay, but, seriously, these will probably stop bleeding by the time you get back."

"You sleep on your back, Gil. You'll need something, at least for the night."

"Fine. Are you going like that?"

Matthew looked down at himself, confused. He was wearing a t-shirt, jeans, shoes, and his pendant. He wanted to be only in his boxers like Gilbert but he was going to answer the door for when the food and sheets arrived and fetch the kit. "What's wrong with this?"

Gilbert grinned at him. "Absolutely nothing. Love you."

"Love you, too." Matthew grabbed the key card and hurried to find Arthur's room. He didn't want to miss whoever came up to deliver their things.

It didn't take long before he was knocking on Arthur's door. To his surprise, it opened almost immediately to Arthur standing with the supplies in hand and not looking him in the eye. "Here you go."

"Thanks—"

"What the hell is he, a vampire? Fucking _Christ_ , Mattie," Alfred said as he came into view, staring at him like Matthew had grown another head. Arthur finally looked at him and his eyes widened.

"Good Lord, Matthew. You said this wasn't for you? Your shoulder's bleeding a bit through your shirt."

Matthew turned red and he suddenly realized why Gilbert asked him that question. "It's not. I really rather not have this conversation in the hall..."

Arthur cleared his throat. "Apologies. We went by to check on you earlier and it was an inopportune time."

"You were a saint, Mattie. Saints don't have kinky sex! I never wanted to know that!"

Fuck. "Yeah, well, I didn't want to see that picture of you yesterday either, Alfred. Looks like we can't always get what we want, eh? _Thank you_ , Arthur." He grabbed the box and tried to make it look like he wasn't running from his brother. The elevator opened and two people walked out, one with sheets and the other with a cart of food. "Oh, are those for 1405? Great, I'll take that. Here you both go…" He handed both of the helpful people money. "Thank you very much! Have a great evening."

Matthew turned around to find the door propped open with the lock. He hurried to get everything into the room before relaxing against the _very_ closed door. Gilbert stood in the bathroom doorway and raised his eyebrows. "What happened?"

"Turns out Alfred and Arthur stopped by earlier to check on me and had a few things to say about the state of my neck."

Gilbert cringed. "I'm sorry. That sucks."

"Yeah, well, the trip got me this." He held up the box of medical supplies. "Come on. Let's get you patched up before we eat."

Gilbert obliged and Matthew got to work cleaning and bandaging his cuts. They were quiet for a few moments before Matthew thought to ask softly, "When were you going to tell me? That you were going with Ludwig tomorrow evening?"

Gilbert tensed then sighed. "I was planning on telling you yesterday, but things had gone sideways. Ludwig had only just convinced me to go back with him on Thursday, right after dinner. I'm sorry it took me so long to say something; you shouldn't have had to ask."

"It's okay, I just wondered. I figured you needed to go back soon, anyway. I don't know if anyone has figured out how long a nation can be away from both their country and people. A month, maybe two, is pushing it."

Gilbert looked over his shoulder at him. "Hey. I know the distance is a lot but we'll make this work."

Matthew smiled at him, a little sad at the reminder. "Of course we will. Other nations have long distance relationships. If it gets hard, we can ask them for advice."

"Could we alternate holidays?"

"Sure, that makes sense."

"Would you like to spend Christmas in Germany this year? I know Ludwig wants you there, partially to see if you can help keep the peace."

Matthew grinned at him. "Sounds like fun."

"Mattie, we've got to talk about your idea of fun." They both laughed and Matthew leaned forward to kiss his cheek before concentrating on finishing the last of the work on Gilbert's back.

"Could I spend Halloween with you, too? I mean, it's only in a couple weeks, but I wouldn't stay long. Maybe just a couple days?" He really focused on smoothing that last bit of gauze into place, realizing that he might be asking too much, too soon. Then again…

"Matthew, you're always welcome to stay with me, though I may have to look into moving out. Right now, I live in a basement suite at West's and it's _not_ soundproof. And you could bring Gilbird with you. You done?"

"Yeah." He tidied up and closed the box.

"Come 'ere." Matthew scooted to join him and Gilbert pulled him into his lap and put his arms around him. They kissed and it was slow and sweet. When they pulled away, Gilbert said, "I want to spend all my birthdays with you in Canada, when it's just us."

"I like the sound of that. I think I want all my birthdays in Germany, so I can celebrate with everyone."

"At the very least, Feli will also be pleased. He _loves_ planning parties. He probably would have insisted on having one for you anyway."

Matthew grinned at him. "Really? That's a plan if I've ever heard one."

"Great. Could you take off your shirt, please?" Matthew gave him a deadpan look and Gilbert returned with an innocent one. "What? I need to eat before I can even think of going again. I want to look at your shoulder and bandage your hands. They'll heal faster that way. Besides…"

He glanced at the clock and smirked slowly. "It's only seven thirty. We've got all night."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If there were allusions to some things in the sex that seemed out of step, you might want to look at the outtakes. The first chapter of that is where Matthew first calls Gilbert sweetheart and why Matthew knew "slow and deep" would be hell on his control.


	33. Chapter 32: Sympathy for the Devil

*Sunday*

"But, Birdie, I don't wannna go," Gilbert whined into Matthew's neck, wrapping his arms around him from behind. He wasn't looking forward to facing the rest of the world today, breaking the small bubble of bliss that had surrounded them since the evening before

Matthew turned a little to kiss his temple. "To speak with your brother, breakfast, or to the meeting?"

"All of the above," he responded. "I'd _much_ rather stay here and—" Gilbert nipped at Matthew's neck, biting the chain to his necklace and making his point clearly. He grinned when Matthew yelped and tried to jump away only to be held still by Gilbert's arms around him.

"Gil! We literally _just_ cleaned up from this morning and re-bandaged my hands. And we would be late for the meeting, not just breakfast. Hell, I still need to get dressed." Even as he spoke sense, Matthew shivered and leaned back against him. Gilbert knew he was right; he just didn't particularly care.

"Matthew, I'll see my brother for weeks after today and there will be other meetings, but you go home today. Is it a crime to want to spend as much time with you as possible before that happens? We wouldn't have to have sex again; I just want to be alone with you."

Matthew seemed to melt into his embrace. "Well, when you put it that way, I guess I—"

There was a solid, precise knock at the door and Gilbert lifted his head to glare towards the sound. He growled lowly, "Go _away_ , West. Fuckin' cockbl—"

"Well, you did promise to meet with him. Go on," Matthew pulled Gilbert's hands from him and wiggled away. Considering he was only in a t-shirt and boxers, the movement was only another vote in Gilbert's mental tallies for him to stay and blow off everything to blow his boyfriend. Matthew certainly deserved it after how he woke him up that morning and—

"East, leave your boyfriend alone and come on. Give the man a break," Ludwig called through the door in German, earning a confused look from Matthew and a renewed glare from Gilbert.

"Ugh, fine. See you soon, Mattie." He caught Matthew around the waist again and landed a solid kiss on his lips. Quietly he said, "I love you."

Matthew's face immediately lit up and he returned the embrace. "I love you, too. I'll see you in fifteen minutes."

Gilbert turned to leave just as Ludwig knocked again. He opened the door with a hard yank and said (in German), "I wasn't even late, West. You were early."

"You would have been late and you know it. We have a schedule to keep and, by God, we are going to keep it." In a more sedate tone, Ludwig called into the room, "Good morning, Matthew."

"Morning, Ludwig. See you both in a minute," he said from further in the room than Gilbert remembered. He resisted the urge to turn around, knowing he would be tempted to not leave. He always made time for his brother, but damn if he didn't want to that moment,

With one last _see you_ , Gilbert began walking towards the elevators, Ludwig at his side. "Alright, it's not that I don't love talking to you, West, because, really, I do, but what is so important that you've stopped me from getting lucky for the second time in the same weekend?"

"I _knew_ you were going to be late if I did not show up at your door."

"I don't get it. I've always be courteous enough to let you and Feli have time to—"

"You have teased me relentlessly on multiple occasions for—"

"But I _didn't stop you_."

Ludwig frowned as the got on the elevator, probably thinking back to all the times Gilbert could have interrupted him and Feliciano back when their relationship was still new and he was...less scrupulous about being alone with him than he was now. "…Should I say 'thank you?'"

"The best form of gratitude would to let us do what we want for a while, though I did agree to talk to you right now. Just…if we are late or disappear from some social gathering, don't look for us right away. Also, I need to move out unless the basement has been soundproofed since I've been gone."

"…That is more than I ever wanted to know about you."

"It's not _me_ who—"

"Can we _please_ change the subject?"

"In a second. Did you know the rooms on our floor are soundproofed? Great investment, I have to say."

"Gilbert—" Ludwig's eyebrow was starting to twitch like it did whenever he was about to lose his temper. His face was also flushed with embarrassment. Gilbert would like to say he wasn't one to kiss and tell, but that would be a blatant lie (he didn't with Ivan or whenever someone specifically requested otherwise, but those were special circumstances). He would never want to upset Matthew, but he wasn't about to stay quiet over how great his sex life was now that he had one again, especially when he could harass his brother about it. Besides, it wasn't like Feliciano was quiet…ever.

"Just thought you would want to know. Okay, now we can change the subject. What's doin'?"

Ludwig sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Alistair texted me about what happened last night. I wanted to ask after both you and Matthew. I understand he took care of the situation, but I wanted to see if there was anything I could do to help."

 _Oh_. Gilbert was silent for several moments as the proceeded from the elevator and then the hotel, in search of a coffee shop. Since Ludwig was coherent, he had probably had at least one highly caffeinated cup already, but it gave them a destination. "Thanks, Ludwig. We're fine, great actually. Mattie had a few bruises and the skin on his knuckles is knitting itself back together, but he's okay. I was probably going to confront Roderich about leaving Matthew the fuck alone, but I think I can do that by myself. He said some really fucked up things to Matthew and that's just not on. I know he said he roughed him up a little but—" Ludwig scoffed before breaking into barely contained chortles. "What?"

"Did he not tell you?" Ludwig asked amused before veering into a small local coffee house.

"Tell me what?"

"Gilbert, Matthew did not just 'rough him up a little.' He destroyed him. After what you have just told me, Roderich's injuries are actually quite impressive."

"There's a list?"

"Let me find the text." There was a short line, so it didn't take Ludwig long to pull up the message and hand him the phone.

Gilbert read over the veritable laundry list and said, "Is it weird that I find this incredibly hot?"

"East, I swear, if you do not _stop_ _talking_ about—"

"Yeah, yeah. But seriously, I should spar with him. That sound like a road to great—" Gilbert stopped himself as they were clearly asked for their order in Swedish. To his surprise, Ludwig answered confidently in kind and took care of it. As they were waiting for their drinks, Gilbert asked, "The fuck? Since when do you speak Swedish?"

Ludwig shrugged. "It is a Germanic language. And I make sure I can order coffee everywhere I go."

Gilbert shook his head with only slightly mocking concern. "Have you considered that you have a severe caffeine addiction? Should I be worried?"

"Fuck off and be grateful for the coffee."

In the voice of a sassy but obedient five year-old, he said, "Thank you, Ludwig."

"You are welcome. Now, back to the point. Matthew took care of Roderich. But he is family now and I wanted to—"

"Wait, what?" Gilbert froze to stare at his brother a second before he was about to sip the too hot, deliciously sweet beverage. "You mean that? And not just because of what Feli said?"

Ludwig's cheeks gained a hint of pink as he shrugged and fixed up his coffee. "He obviously cares for you and is a decent, tolerable person. He went against his nature to fight Roderich for saying a word against you and that is good enough for me."

Gilbert was floored but found he could say softly. "Thank you. But it's not just that, Ludwig. He-he loves me. When I gave him the cross he asked to wear it."

"Congratulations."

"Thanks. I appreciate it and I know Matthew would appreciate it, too. He was anxious about meeting you and Feli as my boyfriend, you know."

"He need not have worried. We were inclined to like him once you both made it clear you loved each other."

"I told him not to—wait, you _knew_?"

"That he loved you? Yes, of course. Neither of you were subtle at the airport."

" _Why didn't you tell me?"_

"Would you really have wanted to hear it from me first?"

"No, but could you at least have told him?"

"Gilbert, that makes no sense."

"We fought over it because he didn't believe me for a good ten minutes."

"…You are joking."

"I'm really not."

"Feliciano mentioned that Matthew was not under the impression you cared that much but—"

"He WHAT?" Gilbert had an idea from last night that Matthew had clearly thought theirs was an unequal relationship before that was cleared up, but it hurt to be reminded just how much. And, fuck, how long did Matthew love him thinking he would never return the feeling? Gilbert suddenly needed to remind his boyfriend what they shared.

"Forget I said that," Ludwig said, clearly recognizing his misstep.

"We have to go back to the hotel now. Right now."

Ludwig sighed. "Well, it is time to meet everyone for breakfast anyway. Please do not make a scene."

"Yeah, sure."

"…You are going to make a scene."

"I'm going to do whatever the fuck I need to and you're going to let me."

"…Just do not forget the meeting is in an hour."

"No offence, West, but I give no fucks about the meeting right now."

"Do you and Matthew not have to give a summary of the subcommittee's findings today?"'

"Goddammit. Can you stall?"

"I will do no such thing."

"C'mon, West. You can't tell me the love of my life thought I didn't give a shit about him then expect me to do nothing about it."

"…fifteen, maybe twenty minutes is all you can get."

"You're the best brother ever."

* * *

Matthew shook his head at himself as Gilbert finally closed the door to the sound of disgruntled German. He really needed to work on not encouraging Gilbert when it came to his particular brand of responsibility avoidance, but it was always so hard when he was only voicing Matthew's thoughts.

He mentally pushed the issue to the side and quickly got dressed for the day. He had plenty of time, but he wanted to return the first aid kit to Arthur before heading downstairs and the five minutes he allowed for that task may not be enough. Matthew messaged Arthur that he would be stopping by but refrained from asking pointedly if Alfred was still asleep. He was going to have to sit next to his brother for a significant amount of time today; an hour's delay in dealing with him would go a long way to helping his patience stay firm.

Thankfully, when Arthur opened his door, sounds of falling water and an obnoxious rendition of "Don't You Want Me" filtered into the room. With a grimace, Matthew greeted, "Good morning, Arthur. Thanks for letting us use this."

"Good morning and it was no trouble. These things happen, I suppose." They shared a wince as Alfred belted out the final chorus. "If you had a moment, there was something I wanted to discuss with you."

"Sure. I'm meeting Gilbert and Ludwig downstairs for breakfast in a minute but I have that minute." Alfred started singing "Take On Me" and Matthew hastened to say, "Maybe we should move into the hallway…"

"Yes, of course. Perhaps I should just walk you down. I would hate to make you late." Arthur threw the lock to keep the door open and they began walking towards the elevator. "If anyone _really_ wants to come in and hear Alfred singing, more power to them. Now, as we are short for time, I will blunt. You probably have some concerns after the horrid things Roderich said to you last night."

Matthew paused and looked at him askance. "You know?"

"Oh yes. Who do you think patched him up and sent him on his way? Alfred? By the way, I was rather impressed by the extent of the damage but also the more severe injuries you could have caused but avoided. Well done, Matthew."

Suddenly, Matthew felt like a young colony again, flustered by hard-won parental praise. It was utterly ridiculous (he was an adult, colonialism was bad, etc.), but the compliment warmed him. "Thank you, Arthur."

"Of course. Now, you probably have some concerns about Gilbert becoming mortal. Am I wrong?"

Matthew felt all feeling leave his face as the blood drained out of it. Gilbert had said he would remain a Nation for a while, but Arthur rarely made idle conversation, at least with him. Did he know something they didn't? Matthew cleared his throat as they entered the elevator and said, "Gilbert said that was a while off yet."

"I'm not trying to alarm you, but we both know how quickly times can change, _people_ can change. Gilbert may very well be correct, but I…You are family, both from our shared history and Alfred. There is something I may be able to do to help, but it really is a last resort."

Matthew was confused. Short of invading to divide Germany once more (which, uh, _no_ ), what could Arthur do? "What are you saying?"

"You, er. Well. You know I still keep up my old hobbies, yes?" Matthew raised his eyebrows but nodded. He personally didn't believe in magic or Arthur's flying mint bunny friend, but who was he to judge? He had an amnesiac talking polar bear cub for fuck's sake; Matthew had no ground to stand on when it came to the impossible. "Well, there's a very old ritual to tie life forces together. When I say old, I mean pre-Saxons old. It was carried down by word of mouth and eventually written down. The copy I own was transcribed around 1100. It was actually made to—"

The elevator doors opened and Arthur cursed. "Bollocks. I said I would be quick."

"It's fine!" Matthew hastened to say. While the thought of trying magic of all things to extend Gilbert's life was a little crazy (not to mention putting the cart before the horse; they had only been together for a month!), if it came down to trying a spell or watching his timeless love age and die, Matthew was going to keep a very open mind. "About the…ritual?"

Arthur walked with him towards the hotel's restaurant and lowered his voice. "Spell, really. The lore is that it is Fae Magick, meant to extend a mortal's youth so that they could age (or not) with their sidhe partner and leave Faerie to visit their relatives. I was told it allows two mortals to age together and die together, neither having to live without the other."

Matthew stopped abruptly and asked quietly. "Wait. So, theoretically, if Gilbert was mortal and I wasn't, he would stop aging."

Arthur nodded, an excited light in his eye for not being dismissed immediately. "Yes. He would live as long as you did. He wouldn't age if you were not aging as well."

Matthew saw movement out of the corner of his eye and saw Feliciano, Lovino, Antonio, and Francis already waiting for him at a large table. Feliciano saw him looking and waved. Matthew lifted a hand and tried to smile but was too focused on the implications of what Arthur was saying and looked back to the Englishman. "Arthur, you have to realize that sounds too good to be true. And if all those stories you told me as a kid meant anything, then I know there's a catch with anything Fae related. What's the downside to this?"

Arthur looked torn between serious and prideful. "I'm happy you were paying attention. There's no catch, per se. As far as I know, the users didn't die sudden, early deaths. They didn't die tragically. But…tying yourself to someone this way is permanent. It has to be consensual and it won't work if the spell deems you…unworthy."

"What the hell does that mean, Arthur? We're talking about my life and the life of someone I love. I can't—"

"It's a failsafe against the spell working for flights of fancy. The love there has to be real."

Matthew stared at him. "You know a lot about this one spell off the top of your head, Arthur."

Arthur clinched his jaw and looked away. "It's not exactly forgettable now is it? It's not every day one comes across a sou- a spell like that."

As delicately as he could, Matthew asked, "…Is there something I should be worried about? About you or Alfred?"

Arthur looked at him in shock. "What? No. It's not that I need to use it…I just remember choosing not to out of spite. Not one of my finest moments, that."

Matthew frowned at him, thinking furiously. He said, "I'm sorry. I never realized you lost someone like that before."

Arthur cringed. "You are far too good of a person, Matthew, and that is why I'm telling you this now so that you know you have options and won't worry too much. But I can't have you thinking I lost someone when I really took someone away when I didn't have to." Arthur glanced over at the table where Matthew's party sat and his stare became distant for a moment. Then he shook his head and said, "I should go. Enjoy your breakfast."

Arthur turned to leave quickly but Matthew caught his arm. "Arthur, wait." When he turned back to meet his eyes with an unreadable but ancient look in them, Matthew said, "Thank you."

Arthur nodded back solemnly and Matthew let him go. He walked towards the others with a smile, eyes widening as his eyes landed on Francis for a second before quickly reminding himself to act like nothing was wrong. What he and Arthur had talked over was something best kept to themselves, but Matthew had an idea of what Arthur meant about not letting Matthew assume the best of a lot of bad options. Arthur hadn't lost someone he loved in a fit of rage and he didn't just decide to let someone else's love live a regular mortal life. If Matthew was right and if Arthur had known the spell in the Middle Ages, then he didn't let someone die of neglect, but ordered them, _her_ burned at the stake. Did Francis know? Matthew would bet not and he certainly wouldn't be the one to enlighten him. There was no need to reopen that particular scar.

"Oi, Maple Bastard, you okay?"

Matthew blinked and brought his mind back to the present to find Lovino staring at him and everyone else talking about the merits of certain wines with breakfast. He laughed quietly and tried to wave off any concern. "Sorry, just a little tired. What's happening?"

Lovino shrugged and rolled his eyes. "Nothing but you were staring blankly and looking like someone killed your dog. Excuse me for giving a fuck."

That was a strange sensation. No one but Gilbert actually noticed if he became quiet for too long. "No, Lovino, I'm sorry, that's not what I meant. I just—"

"Shit, calm down. I'm just fuckin' with you. Lighten up a bit. I was just askin' 'cause lord knows none of those bastards were going to," Lovino said, gesturing across the table.

"Ah, Lovi, that's mean!" Feliciano pouted across the table from where he was sitting with Francis.

Lovino rolled his eyes. "Feli, what are we even talking about right now?"

"I don't know but you called us all bastards and—" Feliciano cut himself off as he broke into a sudden wide smile. "Luddy's here!"

Lovino physically flinched at the word. "Feliciano, I swear to fucking God, if you do _not_ stop calling him that around me, I'll—"

"But Lovi that's what I call him," Feliciano said before smirking. "I call him Luddy just like you call Antonio España when you think no one's listening."

Matthew had to resist laughing at Lovino's betrayed and embarrassed rage and Antonio's sudden gasp of absolute delight. To distract himself, Matthew's eyes sought Gilbert. The look he received back had him tensing with shock because he knew that smirk and recognized the expression in his eyes. Yet, it wasn't just that Gilbert was for some reason was planning to do something to him that would probably make him scream. No, there was something more to the look, a deliberateness to his face and demeanor that suggested he had something to prove and had Matthew's eyes widening as he stared. He didn't know what was said in short time they hadn't seen each other, but he suddenly doubted they would be making it to the meeting on time.

Matthew sat still, transfixed as Gilbert approached him. Gilbert noticed (of course he did) and the intent in his expression only grew. Marginally alarmed, Matthew's eyes shifted to Ludwig with a clear question: _what did you do?_

Ludwig had the grace to look sheepish, the expression surprisingly natural on his face. The open honesty of the look only served to worry him further and Matthew looked back to his boyfriend. _I am a responsible adult_ , he thought to himself frantically. _I will not be late to the meeting because my boyfriend wants to fuck. I will not be late and we have to give a summary report anyway. I AM A RESPONSIBLE—_

Gilbert and Ludwig had reached the table and the former opened his mouth to say something. As he inhaled, Matthew said, voice stern, "No."

Gilbert pouted. "But Mattie—"

"Whatever it is, if it has the potential to make us late for the meeting—" Matthew shot a pointed look at him saying just how much he knew what Gilbert had in mind would make them _very late_ "—then no."

Gilbert didn't seem convinced as he leaned down to say in Matthew's ear, "Love it when you use that tone, _Liebling_. You know that."

Matthew was well aware and the reminder made him flush. He barely stopped himself from covering his face as he rolled his eyes. "Sit down, Gil."

"Love you, Matthew," Gilbert murmured as he sat down then greeted everyone else at the table like it was the first time he was seeing them. The action and words made Matthew duck his head with a pleased smile and he couldn't help bringing his hand up to touch the cross he wore through his shirt, if only for a moment.

Matthew didn't say anything in response, only reached for Gilbert's hand beneath the table and squeezed lightly.

It was Francis who finally asked, "So, is anyone going to explain why Matthew's hands are bandaged or are we just supposed to guess?"

 _Shit._ Matthew looked around the table for queues about how he was supposed to answer only to see

Gilbert, Ludwig, and Feliciano staring at him expectantly. Matthew mentally shrugged. If Roderich was going to show up to the meeting today, then his reticence now would be moot anyway. "My hands are a little scraped up from getting into a small fight with Roderich."

Ludwig scoffed and Matthew frowned at him. Did he know? Fucking Christ, how many people did Alfred tell? "I would not call it that, Matthew. According to the message I received from Alistair, Roderich had a sprained ankle, dislocated shoulder, three fractured ribs, broken wrist and nose, and mild concussion. I was rather impressed when I heard the news."

"So was I," Gilbert said with a leer, running a slow finger over Matthew's wrist. Good God.

"Thanks, I guess," Matthew said, trying to ignore what Gilbert was implying. To the half of the table who was hearing of the altercation for the first time, he said, "Roderich cornered me after the meeting yesterday in one of the bathrooms and said some unflattering things about Gilbert. I did what I had to, to make sure he wouldn't bother us again."

Antonio was the first to react. Hopeful and eyes a little dead, he asked, "What did he say? Can we each take a turn now?"

A chorus of responses answered him with variations of _no_. Antonio looked disappointed before shrugging it off. "I was just asking."

"I appreciate your…sense of justice, Antonio, but I handled it. That means no one else can confront him about it." Gilbert's hand stiffened in his and Matthew shifted his gaze to him. "Right, Gilbert?"

Gilbert's eyes narrowed, "Sure, I won't talk to him about what he said about me. But he hurt you or at least tried to. Do you _really_ think I'm going to leave that alone?"

Matthew sighed because the answer was no. But the day was going to be hard enough with the meeting and him leaving later. Was it too much to ask for a little peace?

* * *

The session for the day was supposed to end at noon, giving people time to catch their flights home at a reasonable hour. Unfortunately, it meant that everyone was forced to work on a Sunday morning, looking desperately for something to catch their attention that _wasn't work_. That meant that Elizabeta was not the only one in the room to take a keen interest in Roderich's sorry state. The Nation looked awful, with two black eyes, his arm in a sling, and a noticeable limp. She probably was not the only one to connect the dots between Roderich's injuries and gauze-wrapped hands of the otherwise uninjured Matthew. That something had happened was only driven home by the equal amount of concern for Matthew and outright hostility for Roderich expressed by Gilbert and Alfred, the latter intense enough to be palpable from across the room. The obvious question on everyone's mind was _what happened?_

Elizabeta could guess and, in light of her conversation with Roderich the day before, she was left wondering _how is he still functional?_ But maybe the answer to that was right in front of her: Matthew, bandaged hands and all, was visibly trying to talk down alternatively his brother and his boyfriend, to keep them focused on other things besides their more violent tendencies. The fact that both of them could maintain that projected hostility for so long meant that Matthew had been successful thus far; it also meant that he was the most likely candidate responsible for Roderich's injuries. Elizabeta felt her eyebrows rise and her mouth curl at the thought, her respect for the (usually) peaceful nation increasing exponentially. She always did appreciate those who had the ability to end fights and didn't keep a lack of desire from doing what was needed.

Did she feel bad for Roderich? Of course not. She _had_ warned him away from trying anything, after all. Besides, she couldn't help but note with more than a little satisfaction the subtly hovering presence of Vash on Roderich's periphery.

Elizabeta took this all in and settled in to observe the proceedings, with only half a mind on official business. She was just as curious, if not more so, as everyone else as to what exactly happened, but she was old enough now to recognize a situation too volatile for active investigation. If need be, should could get her answers later, when people had calmed. More than likely, today she would get a front seat to the inevitable explosion because people like Matthew? They inspired loyalty which demanded retaliation for any slight and she was betting Gilbert, at the very least, knew the value of the person he slept beside. A distant part of her was relieved he found someone who could help him balance the hard years.

Mostly, though? She just wished she had brought popcorn.

* * *

Gilbert would like it noted in the cosmic record that he had exercised admirable restraint in not decking Roderich on sight for what he did to Matthew. Sure, he wasn't exactly a candidate for sainthood (for more than one reason but pfft who's counting?), but not avenging the pain of someone who was decidedly _his_ , well…that just didn't sit well with him. Matthew had done a wonderful (and enticingly thorough) job defending both Gilbert's and his own honor, but that didn't mean that Gilbert felt any less obligated to _do_ something.

Really, he had done the best he could because this shit? The fact that a vendetta against Gilbert spilled over to hurt the man he loved? Yeah, that wasn't happening again, not if he could help it.

The moment the mid-morning (and final) recess was called, Gilbert stood without a word to Ludwig and strode over to where Roderich was sitting. Feeling all eyes on him, Gilbert moved his mouth in a semblance of a pleasant smile, knowing the animosity in his eyes meant that he missed the mark by a mile. Barely moving his lips, he met Roderich's wary eyes and said tersely, in an old dialect of German, "We need to talk."

Roderich regarded him with a long look before responding in English (no doubt for the ears straining to hear them) said, "I believe whatever point you think that conversation would make has already been beaten into me, thanks."

The smile dropped, because Gilbert saw where Roderich was directing public opinion and he didn't like it. Lowering is voice, he responded in kind. "We can either have an actual, adult conversation about everything that's happened here or in private. I don't want anything from what happened last month to come up again past this weekend, so this ends now. Choose."

Roderich stared at him for a long moment, wasting time they really didn't have; the break was only for 15 minutes. Then he nodded decisively and stood, hand on the table to steady his ascent. "Here, then."

The choice was aggravating, though not overly surprising. After what Matthew did, Roderich might not have felt safe being alone with him. Something hurt to realize that, but it was small and distant, the part of him that was given to ponder _what if_ in the back of his mind. But Gilbert hadn't been one for idle speculation for seventy years and easily ignored the pang of discomfort. He was more annoyed at the inconvenience, at Roderich's decision to make what happens now public knowledge. God, what a prick.

Whatever. Gilbert would deal.

He leaned back against the desk behind Roderich's seat, far out of the other man's personal space and crossed his arms. He switched back to the antiquated dialect that even Ludwig would struggle to understand immediately and the translators wouldn't know what to do with. "Fine. I take issue with how you spoke to and attacked Matthew yesterday. Your problem was with Alistair and I, maybe the people who came to see you out of loyalty to me, but not him."

In the same language, Roderich responded, "And _I_ take issue with the invasion of my privacy and my humiliation over something that was my prerogative to begin with. I know my delivery left much to be desired—" Gilbert snorted and rolled his eyes. _No shit, asshole_. "—But that doesn't mean I deserve to be bullied into eternity because I rejected you. The fact that you had Alistair hack my computer—"

"I had nothing to do with that," Gilbert interrupted calmly. "I was not lying yesterday when I said I told everyone to leave you alone. I was just as surprised as you were that he was here this weekend, let alone what he was presenting on. If you think Alistair does not do exactly as he wants, you are deeply mistaken. But that is not the point of this conversation."

Roderich glared at him. "Is it not?"

"No. It is the fact that you attacked Matthew when you should have dealt directly with me."

"It is only wise to attack an enemy's weakness."

Gilbert sneered at him and pointedly stared at every visible injury Roderich carried. "Did he seem weak to you?" A silence fell between them, thick with Gilbert's anger and Roderich's sullenness. "The fact that Matthew can handle himself does not mean he should have to. What you did was completely uncalled for and the next time you have a problem with me, you _will come to me_."

Roderich's posture went rigid like he had been slapped. "I will not be ordered around by the likes of you."

"Think of it as a warning. Do not go after him again, Roderich."

Roderich switched to English to say, "I will not stand here and be threatened."

Gilbert's lips curled again, humorless and fierce, nothing anywhere in the vicinity of a smile. "A threat implies the possibility of bluffing. This is a promise. If you go after him again, as Roderich and not as Austria, I will make you regret it. The only reason you can still walk right now is because any further violence would upset Matthew and he is my priority, not you."

Roderich scoffed. "That happened fast. Tell me, are you more upset that I told him the truth or that there was a physical altercation."

Pissed, Gilbert switched into English to make this absolutely clear to everyone listening. "You know _nothing_ of the truth, you dick, and I _know_ you threw the first punch. Just because you picked a fight with someone who kicked your ass doesn't make you any less wrong here. He only finished what you started and you know it."

"Is t'ere a probl'm 'ere?"

Both Gilbert and Roderich startled to be addressed by Berwald, the conference host using his considerable height to loom over both of them. Gilbert stepped away from Roderich, not knowing when they had moved towards each other in their argument, and took a deep breath. "No, Berwald. Roderich and I are done."

Gilbert moved to leave them both standing there when a surprisingly strong grip on his arm stopped him cold. He looked and saw Roderich's enraged expression as he said, "The hell we are."

"Get your hand off of him before I break that, too," said a calm yet firm voice from the other side of Berwald and Gilbert jolted in shock and sudden arousal to identify the speaker as Matthew. Gilbert was certain that his heart was in his eyes as he met Matthew's steady gaze when he stepped around their flabbergasted host. He watched as Matthew's eyes dropped from his to the hand that was still on his arm, but only for a second longer. Roderich released him like the contact had burned.

Satisfied, Matthew turned towards Berwald with a smile. With a disarming emphasis on his accent, he said, "Sorry aboot tha'. I'll jus' take Gilbert off your hands, eh?"

"Er…"

Gilbert piped up. "Yeah, sorry! You know how it is, with people and not knowing to leave well enough alone." Matthew coughed softly to hide his laugh and Gilbert grinned. "I'll just leave with the nice Nation."

Gilbert and Matthew hurried off, barely containing their giggles and ignoring the varyingly amused and alarmed glances they attracted, depending on who was close enough to hear Matthew's comment. Gilbert slung an arm over his boyfriend's shoulders and said quietly, "Hey, Birdie?"

Matthew looked at him warily, but with no sign of reproach for Gilbert confronting Roderich. _Awesome_. "Yes, angel?"

"Fuck me before you leave?"

Matthew stumbled and might have slipped if Gilbert hadn't been holding him. When he steadied himself, he looked at Gilbert mildly scandalized. Gilbert just grinned at him. Then Matthew put an arm around his waist and smirked.

"If we have the time."

Gilbert would make sure of it.

* * *

Lilli knew she should have probably should have been paying more attention to the last hour of the conference, but no one else really was. She had left the room during the short intermission to head to the restroom and grab a cup of coffee strong enough to knock a human on their ass. By the time she had returned to the conference room, something had clearly happened in her absence and she burned with curiosity to know what it was. She decided to take a page from Eliza's book and observed.

Roderich was angry enough that the air around him was nearly crackling with it, very different from his cautious countenance that had present before the break. Interestingly enough, Gilbert seemed less intent on murdering him than he had been. Instead, he was glancing between his phone and Ameri—no, Canada. With how still and calm Matthew seemed to be, with his bandaged hands resting in front of him on the table, it was easy to miss him next to his fidgeting brother. Alfred seemed to be dissatisfied with something, though Lilli really didn't know him well enough to say for sure.

As for everyone else, she noticed that those who were sitting in Roderich's vicinity were casting considering and wary (bordering on alarmed) looks towards where the two North American countries were sitting. It would make sense that people would be concerned about an antsy Alfred because there were very few people who could stop him in the room if he decided to do something violent. But Lilli had a feeling that, for once, they were staring at Matthew. Others seemed just as curious as she was while still others, particularly Gilbert's circle of friends and family, just seemed bored if a little pleased.

It seemed like she was just going to have to wait until after the conference to ask Eliz—

"Are t'ere any mo'ions on the floor?" Berwald asked from the podium, seemingly for the last time. Everyone had presented the conclusions from the committee meetings the day before and was just about ready to go home. Berwald, looking as unapproachable as ever but also clearly exhausted, was not expecting anything. When no one answered immediately, he managed, "Motion to adjour—"

"Да, I have a point of inquiry," came a soft voice that never failed to make the hair raise on her arms. Lilli would never admit to being terrified of the Russian, but wouldn't hesitate to say the man was disconcerting.

Berwald seemed to suppress a sigh and he glared at Ivan. "Th' chair recog'izes Ivan."

"I have been thinking that the point of this conference is to further peace, yes?"

When Ivan seemed to expect a response, Berwald narrowed his eyes at him and hedged, "…yes."

"Well then, should we not know about current disputes that could lead to conflict? Should there not be transparency between us to avoid war?"

"Transparency? Ha!" Alfred nearly shouted from his seat. " _You_ first!"

"Jones, you are ou' of or'er—"

"Whatever do you mean, Alfred? I am an open book." Lilli, like every other person in the room, stared at Ivan in utter disbelief. "Of course, I was referring to the fact that one of our number arrived injured by another but no one has done anything. Surely, we deserve an explanation."

Lilli's eyes flashed briefly to Roderich, who was looking more sympathetic now that all eyes were on him, and then she focused back on Berwald as he cleared his throat. "I was informed tha' it was a pers'nal conflict tha' has 'een resolved. Mo'ion to—"

"I am thinking this is not resolved. Roderich and Gilbert clearly almost came to blows at the break and Matthew threatened further violence to get them to stop. Clearly, there is still risk." Lilli watched as Yekaterina, from her place by Ivan's side, looked at him in horror before reaching out and digging her nails into his arm, angry about something.

Berwald just stared at Ivan for a second, clearly wanting his tenure as host to be _over_ as soon as possible. "This subject is ruled ou' of order. Now, _mo'ion_ —"

"To put everyone's mind at ease," Roderich cut in smoothly, projecting his voice over Berwald's frustrated grumble, "it really is a personal matter. Though perhaps the violent capabilities of one of the seemingly peaceful members of our group should be noted—"

"Go fuck a cactus, you heartless sack of shit!" Alfred once more interrupted, livid.

"—the issue itself should concern no one else." Roderich finished, looking mildly affronted.

Silence followed the unorthodox exchange and Lilli subtly looked up the precise meaning of _cactus_. Yes, it meant exactly what she thought it did. Tension raced up her spine when she noted how Roderich's statement had the hackles raised of some very dangerous people. Both Germanys looked ready to strangle him, the elder of them halfway out of his seat but held back by Ludwig. Alistair had finally looked at Roderich for the first time that day and the look he threw him was cold enough that Lilli suppressed a shiver. Alfred's anger radiated outward in waves and, for once, Arthur and Francis seemed to agree on something as they wore twin looks of disgusted annoyance. Beside her, Vash just sighed.

Matthew calmly raised his hand and Berwald seemed relieved by the return of some modicum of order as he said, "Th' chair recog'izes Matthew."

"Motion to table the discussion and adjourn the conference."

The Scandinavian host sighed and his lips twitched in an abortive smile. "Secon'ed. All in fa'or?" A resounding _aye_ went through the room and Berwald didn't even pretend to care if they were in majority. "Th' ayes 'ave it. Adjou'ed."

The room immediately broke out into subdued chaos as people rose to leave and began speaking with their neighbors. Lilli was among them, distracted as Alfred's words stayed with her. The nation was one of the least stable, personality-wise, that she knew, switching between terrifyingly violent detachment and startling emotionalism, driven by a morality that was well-intentioned at the best of times, but overall a very dark gray. Alfred was at once impulsive and calculating, but his outburst today seemed genuine. What was most startling about it, was what he called Roderich after the poorly concealed jab at Matthew: _heartless_.

Lilli was more than aware that she was an outside observer to the clearly complicated situation and she tried her hardest not to jump to conclusions or make rash judgements. But she had watched Alfred calmly defend the actions of his country that had resulted in the needless loss of _thousands_ of human lives, had watched the nation declare with such certainty that he didn't have an empire, that he was a champion _against_ imperialism with a straight face. The fact that the same nation would call the man her brother was involved with _heartless_ and _mean it_ …

Maybe it was time for Lilli to watch out for Vash rather than the other way around.

* * *

Matthew sat quietly beside Gilbert early that evening, his plane moments from boarding the short flight to London before his red-eye across the Atlantic. He had tried for several minutes to think of something to say, eyes downcast as they held hands and waited for their inevitable separation. In the end, nothing felt…complete enough to give closure to the weekend, to their past weeks together, but not to their relationship. He didn't know how to express his gratitude that Gilbert had chosen to stay with him or the still lingering awe that he could call the man beside him his and that he was similarly claimed. Matthew _belonged,_ not only with Gilbert but with his family as well, and the resulting elation the awareness gave him was _everything._

So Matthew had squeezed Gilbert's hand lightly and relaxed into the moment, silently memorizing everything he could about the feel of Gilbert beside him so that he could recall it in the weeks to come. He looked up to see Gilbert starting at him and smiled. "What is it?"

"I miss you." Matthew didn't say that it shouldn't matter because he was sitting right next to him. He didn't tell him to focus on the fact that the minute he got home he was arraigning a flight to Berlin or the fact they could Skype each other as much as they wanted. He couldn't, because the statement made perfect sense as Matthew felt the seconds pass keenly and knew their time was almost up. Skype was great, but it wouldn't change the fact that his bed would be half-empty every morning, a fact he was trying to ignore with the taste of Gilbert's skin still lingering on his tongue.

"I miss you, too."

Boarding procedures began and business class was summoned. Matthew grabbed his small briefcase and stood. Gilbert didn't immediately follow, his eyes raking over him appreciatively like he had never seen him before and Matthew couldn't help the sudden flush to his cheeks. When Gilbert stood, he was far too close for Matthew not to close the distance and kiss him goodbye.

It was brief and, by their standards, downright chaste, their desperation for each other banked by their post-conference intimacies. Now was the time for Matthew to leave so that they could meet again. Matthew pulled away and said, "Message me when you get in."

"Will do. Have a good flight, _Liebling_." Gilbert squeezed his hand once more then let go.

Matthew hesitated but business passengers were called once more to board and he sighed. "You too. Love you."

"And I you." Gilbert said quietly, his brilliant eyes serious and dark as Matthew turned to hand the attendant his ticket and walk towards the plane. He didn't look back, but he wanted to.

Hours later, once Matthew was once again on Canadian soil and had retrieved two polar bears and a somewhat disgruntled bird, Matthew allowed himself to watch the video message that was waiting in his inbox when he had landed.

_"Hey, Birdie," Gilbert said, smirking at the camera. It was dark, wherever he was, though there was a light leading to what looked like a kitchen in the background. "I'm at West's and all. The flight was fast enough, but I know you already left London. I could have just left text message, but I thought you would miss seeing this handsome face!"_

_"Gilbert!" Ludwig called from out of shot. "I do not want to hear that!"_

_Gilbert frowned but his eyes were sparkling with mischief. "But, West, I wasn't even—"_

_"Do I look like I care?"_

_"Ve~ say hi to Mattie for me!"_

_Gilbert rolled his eyes. "He heard you, Feli. It's a video message."_

_"Really? Give me the phone!"_

_"No! Leave your own message," Gilbert said with a smile, the frame shaking and background blurring as he seemed to dance away from Feliciano with a laugh._

_Several moments and a shut door later, Gilbert looked back at the camera and shrugged. "Sorry, Mattie. What can you do? Anyway, I just wanted to say I miss you. Give my apologies to Gilbird, since he's probably a little pissed at me right now. Let me know when you can talk or just leave me a message whenever. Also, tell me beforehand if it's safe for work, if you know what I mean." Gilbert wiggled his eyebrows at the camera._ Matthew couldn't help the giggle that bubbled up from throat, nor the blush that burned his face at the thought of recording, or hell, _receiving_ a message that couldn't be watched around others.

_Gilbert's eyes softened and he said, "Let me know when you get in, alright? I love you, Matthew, and I'll talk to you soon."_

The message ended there and Matthew felt the sting of tears in his eyes as he damn near ached with longing to be with him again. He cleared his throat and shook his head before quickly checking his appearance in a mirror and opening the program to leave a message of his own.

He stared at the little circle that was the camera on his phone, ignoring his own face staring back at him, and did his best to act like he was talking to the man he loved directly. He began, "Hey, angel. I miss you too…"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does this chapter have extraneous smutty outtakes? You bet. I'll post them as their written.


	34. Chapter 33: The Way Home

Matthew jolted to awareness, tensing in panicked confusion for a moment, reaching for someone who wasn't there. Then the moment passed and he remembered. Seconds later, his alarm went off and he reached to silence it distractedly. It was Thursday and he needed to get ready for work.

It was almost disturbing, how simple it was for life to go on. Matthew got up, went to work, came home, went to sleep. After a brief welcome back Tuesday, it was business as usual. The world kept turning as if nothing had ever happened and, for minutes at a time, Matthew's brain would try to convince him that it had all been an elaborate fantasy of a desperate man. He only had small, but important reminders that so many things had changed for the better.

There was a framed picture of Matthew and Gilbert smiling at the camera in front of Niagara Falls, the only one he had of them together.

There were daily messages over Skype that never failed to make Matthew smile, if only for a moment.

There was beer in his fridge that he did not drink and clothes in the guest room which did not fit. A toothbrush in his bathroom that wasn't his. A television series on his video queue that he couldn't bring himself to watch alone.

There was a small, yellow bird which had taken to perching on his shoulder when he was not otherwise occupied and to greeting him as he returned.

An ever-present weight of a cross on his sternum.

These things didn't erase the longing caused by his now unbruised skin, the lonely silence of his house, the chill of his sheets.

But they did make it bearable.

* * *

Gilbert was going a little nuts.

It's not that he wasn't grateful that people were giving him work to do. Really, he hadn't realized just how much of a toll the ennui of self-imposed sloth had done to him. He had forgotten what being able to use his mind to actually accomplish something felt like. He should have gone back to work sooner rather than dreading just how out of touch he would be.

Now if people could stop speaking to him like he was five, that would be great, thanks.

Seriously, he had been out of the work force for 20 years, not 200. Working with Matthew the week before had gotten him up to speed on a lot of things and he hadn't exactly been living under a rock either.

It didn't help that damn near everyone he worked with knew him as Ludwig's troubled brother, who's just now getting back on his feet so everyone please watch out for him. Gilbert _hated_ being treated with kid gloves and despised how everyone seemed to walk on eggshells around him. He knew they mostly meant well and that it would take time for everyone to adjust to his presence. Only the knowledge that actually expressing his frustration at work would put him in an even worse position kept him from snapping at people.

It didn't help that he wasn't sleeping well. While the Conference meant that he wasn't _entirely_ on Canadian time anymore, it was still a struggle to set a somewhat sane sleep schedule for himself. To add insult to injury, his body had adjusted to having the reassuring weight of Matthew against him as he slept and his mind to the subconscious certainty that the man he so treasured was safe by his side. The latter proved more trying than the former. It had been a long time, since he had first taken to watching over Ludwig when he was ill and in the early days of his relationship with Elizabeta before that, since the presence of someone beside him when he slept was such a cause for comfort. It had taken Gilbert time to adjust to sleeping alone as he and Elizabeta had grown apart and Ludwig had simply grown enough to protect himself. (Ivan never bothered to stay the night.) With the sporadic nature of how often he would be able to physically be with Matthew and the hopeful continuation of their relationship, Gilbert doubted he would truly be able to sleep soundly alone unless he was utterly exhausted.

In any case none of this was helping with his stress levels. Between work, not sleeping well, looking for a suitable apartment, and living with his brother again (he loved him, really, but damn, the inevitable shouting matches took a toll), Gilbert was more than ready for a weekend of relaxation.

The first step was to have his first extended live video call with Matthew. They had managed short conversations through the week, but the time difference and their work schedules made prolonged conversation difficult. It was early afternoon for Gilbert, so Matthew should be dressed soon if he wasn't already. He had firsthand experience with just how much of an early riser his boyfriend was.

The second was a night out with Francis and Antonio, which was at least partially planned to be payback for dropping off the face of the Earth for about two weeks on them. Alistair had declined to travel and join them, so it was just the Trio for the night. It had been a while and Gilbert was definitely looking forward to it.

But first…

Gilbert positioned his computer and did one last check on his appearance. As he didn't want to _assume_ they were going to do something to relieve the sexual frustration they had at turns expressed over the week, so he was just in clean, comfortable clothes. If his grey sweatpants hung a little low on his hips or the black tank top was just a tad too clingy, well, it never hurt to encourage a situation to his favor.

That aside, he did miss just talking to Matthew. He missed his calm presence, the sound of his startled laugh, and the keen intelligence he displayed that was only matched by his kindness. The past few days had only driven home how lucky he was to have found him and Gilbert was going to do his damnedest to make sure Matthew never thought he took him for granted. He was far too old and had been through far too much to lose someone as special as Matthew over something so avoidable.

Gilbert sat on his bed and reached forward to dial. The call connected and he smiled. "Hello, stranger."

On screen, Matthew rolled his eyes, his blue t-shirt making the color stand out more than usual. "Gil, you messaged me not five minutes ago to make sure I was going to be on time." But he was smiling and that was the point of his greeting anyway.

Gilbert pouted at him, making Matthew laugh and shake his head half the world away. "So sue me for missing you."

Matthew quieted as his expression softened, his eyes at once sad and loving. "I miss you too, sweetheart."

And what he wouldn't give to be there with him to chase that sadness away in person. As it was, he cleared his throat and asked after Matthew's work and Gilbird, offering a distraction from how very far they were from each other.

But the situation was what it was and they would be together again soon. Patience was never Gilbert's strong suit, but it had to be enough.

By the time they hung up two hours later, Matthew beautifully flushed and telling him to have fun later that night, Gilbert convinced himself that it was.

* * *

Gilbert eyed his friends warily as he drank from his beer. He kept waiting for them to ask about Matthew, details about what went down at the conference, or how he felt about _finally_ letting Roderich go. But they had been silent on all of the above for the near hour they had been at one of their favorite clubs in the Berlin area. He laughed and joked along with them with the usual antics but he was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Don't get him wrong, Gilbert _wanted_ to talk about Matthew. Really he did. He wanted his best friends to know what a kick-ass partner he landed and how fucking lucky he was. But he didn't know how to bring him up without a) bringing up why they met, b) talking their ears off the way Antonio had done with them about Lovino (which had been annoying as fuck), and c) reminding Francis that Gilbert was happily fucking his "son." That last was particularly awkward and Gilbert didn't really know what to do with it. Sure, Matthew wasn't a conquest to brag about but…Francis and Antonio knew him far too well to think Gilbert wasn't putting his hard-won skills in the bedroom to good use. Also, he truly did _not_ want to think too hard about how the love of his life was partially raised by one of his good friends who was basically his age. Sure, time meant something different to them as Nations, but there are still lines of weirdness that Gilbert didn't want to address. Too many levels of _yikes_ there.

Not to mention the fact he wasn't 100% okay with how Matthew felt like Francis didn't care about him. Yeah, no, best not to go there tonight.

So, Gilbert avoided bringing up the fact he was deliriously happy. Neither of his friends said anything until Gilbert politely but firmly turned down his third offer to dance with a variation of _no, thanks, I'm taken_. It was as the person had been absorbed back into the pulsing mass of humanity that was the dance floor that Antonio turned to him with a far too knowing glint in his eye and a smirk. "And here I thought Lovi was joking."

Gilbert saw the trap, acknowledged it with narrowed eyes, and then walked right into it anyway. "…About what?"

"Matthew calling you angel and _meaning_ it." Both Antonio and Francis grinned at him.

Gilbert felt his face heating and automatically grew defensive. "One, not cheating is not me doing anything special. It just means I'm not being an stupid asshole. Two, what's wrong with that?"

Francis scoffed. "You? An angel? Gilbert, excuse me for having difficulty imagining you in a diaper with white wings plus a bow and arrow."

"I wouldn't be a cherub!"

"Sí, more like one of the fallen."

Gilbert flinched at that comment, which hit a little too close to home. He rallied with, "Well, fuck you both. I would be neither. You both are _kind of_ Catholic—" Gilbert pushed past their sounds of affronted indignation with a smirk. "—So what exactly do you think God's armies are made of? I happen to love the pet name. Besides, you don't get to judge me, Antonio. Lovino's idea of expressing affection is to call you a bastard with marginally less venom than usual."

"Lovi is very demonstrative, thank you!" Gilbert and Francis stared at him for a moment. "I'm serious!"

"…Right. I don't judge and you two shouldn't either. I'm happy and you should be happy for me."

"About that," Francis started, leaning into their table. "How did this occur? And, in this instance, _please_ spare me the details. I do not wish to kill you for what you do with my son."

_Oh no, here we go._ "Okay, Mattie is _not_ your son. That's creepy as hell, Francis. Like I would fuck your progeny."

Francis' eyes hardened at that. "What _exactly_ does that—"

"Whoa, okay!" Antonio said, interrupting him before this actually dissolved into a fight. "Gil will go light on the sexy stuff. Now who's ready for another round?"

Gilbert took a deep breath and nodded for another beer. In a less hostile tone, he said, "Also, I already told you last week that Matthew and I real, that this is not just sex. I mean it when I say I'm really pleased with things right now, even with us being apart the majority of the time. We're worth the effort. _He_ is worth the effort."

It was Gilbert's turn to be stared at like he had grown a second head. "What?"

Antonio and Francis exchanged a look before Francis focused back on him and waved a hand as if to clear the air. "Nothing, _mon ami_. We are happy for you. Now, how did this start?"

Gilbert thought back and couldn't help the small, besotted smile on his face. "Well, I guess it started when he picked me up from the airport and surprised me with his love of extreme sports…"

* * *

Matthew was sitting in his office Monday afternoon, writing a memo to his boss on whatever the crisis of the week was when his personal cell phone rang. He frowned, not recognizing the country code (nevermind the entire number) and reached to pick it up. "Hello?"

"Matthew?"

The voice was familiar, but not immediately identifiable. "…Yes?"

"Okay, great. It's Lovino. Listen, do you have a minute?" The desperation in his voice was palpable and it put Matthew on red alert.

"Yes, I have a moment. What's wrong? Do I need to leave work?"

"Work? What—shit, I forgot the time difference. Goddammit. Nevermind, It's not—"

"No! No, wait, I want to help, if I can. What's wrong?" Matthew got the impression from speaking to Lovino last week and everything he had heard about him before, that he rarely reached out to people, placing his independence high on his priority list. If he would call Matthew for help, then something was dreadfully wrong.

Not to mention, Matthew liked Lovino. Sure he had a prickly personality, but he was also the one to notice when Matthew was preoccupied at breakfast last week, to see him even when he was quiet. It wasn't much, but it could be a start to a friendship. They all had to start somewhere, right?

Matthew began to prepare to leave for the day, a full hour early. He was the most senior person in the building. What were they going to do, fire him?

"No, fuck, I shouldn't have called. Thanks for—"

"Lovino." Matthew said, voice kind but firm. "I _want_ to help. I'm here. Talk to me."

The line was silent for a second and Matthew was afraid Lovino had gone until he heard a quiet, "Okay. Thank you."

"Of course. What happened?"

"Not any one thing, I just…needed to talk to someone sane. Who wouldn't freak out because I was, you know?"

He didn't, not really, but he said, "You've come to the right guy. I'll listen, as long as you need me to."

"Fuck, you're a godsend. Okay, so my boss…"

Matthew focused on Lovino's words as he walked out of the office and drove home, expressing his empathy when it was appropriate. When Lovino seemed to get everything he wanted off his chest, Matthew then set out to distract him, telling amusing if self-depreciating stories about his work life. The conversation continued naturally to having ridiculous brothers and all the strings that came with them as Matthew made it home. Eventually, they got to their partners and holy shit, Matthew was all too happy to talk about Gilbert. He had to reign in his enthusiasm, but his clear struggle made Lovino laugh which as a huge win, considering the start of the call.

They signed off not too long after that, Lovino once again thanking him. "Seriously, this has been the least frustrating conversation I've had in way too long with someone who isn't Tonio."

That made Matthew grin. "Anytime. Don't be a stranger!"

"Sure. I owe you one for this."

"No, you don't. But if you want to be helpful…"

"Oh, no. I do not like the way your tone is going."

Matthew smirked. "I was just going to ask for help thinking of ideas for a Halloween costume. I'm flying to Europe this weekend and staying to the first, and I have a hunch Gilbert's going to want to go out after a couple of days."

"Wait a second. Let me get this straight." Lovino started to say, his tone deadpan. "You're going to a Halloween party. Next week. And. You. Don't. Have. A costume. Yet?"

Matthew looked at the phone askance before putting it back to his ear. "…Yes?"

"Oh, hell no! We're going shopping. We are getting this done. When are you getting in?"

"Saturday morning but—"

"Okay, we'll go in the afternoon and—"

"Lovino."

"—get you something. Fuck—"

"Lovino."

"—do you have any idea how difficult it will be to find—"

"Lovi!"

"What, bastard?"

Matthew was holding back laughter as he said, very clearly, "I would be happy to see you and go shopping this weekend, but you need to understand: the only thing I'm doing on Saturday is Gilbert."

"…That's fair. I'll message you some ideas so we know where to look. Ciao!"

Matthew rolled his eyes but couldn't help the smile. Today had turned out better than expected. It was time to message his boyfriend that he had been effectively stolen for at least part of Sunday.

* * *

"Hello?"

Antonio breathed a sigh of relief when his friend answered. "Gilbert, thank God. Something's happened with Lovi and I'm concerned."

Gilbert scoffed and growled, clearly put out, "Lovino? You mean the asshole who took away my long distance boyfriend this weekend to go shopping?"

" _Shopping_? Amigo, you need to be concerned as well. He keeps smiling evilly at his computer and muttering about Matthew. I swear I heard a cackle or two! I don't think this is just shopping. He's also more relaxed than I've seen him in a while so…"

"He's planning something."

"Yes! And—"

"Hey, Tonio?" Antonio's eyes jumped to his lover who was now leaning against the door frame to his kitchen, eyes blazing and hips canted enticingly.

Antonio said into the phone, "Madre de Dios."

Gilbert's voice was mildly concerned as he said, "What is it?"

"Come to bed, love." Lovino turned slowly back to the hallway. He smiled coyly as he turned and Antonio knew that it was going to be one of _those_ nights. "I want to ride you."

Lovino left and Antonio said distractedly, "Gilbert, I'm going to have to call you back tomorrow."

"Tony, what—" He hung up the phone and tripped in his haste to follow his partner. Lovino rarely got in this playful mood and damn if he was going to waste moment! Whatever Lovino was planning, Gilbert would be able to handle himself. Probably.

* * *

Matthew was enjoying a novel when his phone buzzed yet again. He was prepared to be both amused and annoyed with Lovino's outlandish costume ideas (not that he didn't appreciate them but he _was_ trying to read), only to be pleasantly surprised that it was Gilbert calling him over Skype. He happily connected the call. "Hey, angel. You're up late."

Gilbert smiled at the phone. "Hey, Mattie, and not by choice. I'm not bothering you, am I?

"No, of course not."

"Great. Listen, I just got a call from Antonio about Lovino acting strangely then he suddenly had to go. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that would you?"

"Maybe…" Matthew trailed off, his mouth fixed in a smirk as he recalled some of the more risqué ideas his new friend had thrown out that Matthew had vetoed for public wear. Gilbert didn't do role play but that didn't mean Matthew couldn't dress up a little sometimes, right?…Something to think about.

"Okay, that look is concerning. Do I want to know?"

Matthew laughed. "No worries, we were just looking for a Halloween costume for me. Lovino took special offence to my not having one yet for any parties you and I may go to and decided to fix that. It probably won't _all_ day."

"Mattie, you've never been shopping with the Italians. Trust me, it will take all day."

"Gil, it _will not_ take all day. One, there's no ban to keep you from coming along. I just know you dislike shopping. Two, do you really think I would spend an entire day away from you when we would be so close?"

"…I don't know." Gilbert said lowly, eyes away from the camera.

"I wouldn't. I miss you far too much to spend too long from you if I could. God, Gilbert. You know, it's been a week but I still reach for you when I wake up?" _It still hurts every time you're not there._ His eyes burned, his voice thickened, and it was his turn to look away from his phone. Fuck. He had almost forgotten how much he wanted Gilbert with him.

Almost.

"…I haven't been sleeping well."

"What?" Matthew looked back at the screen and stared at him. There was a hint of dark circles under his eyes, but that was all.

"Yeah. I, I can't really sleep. I…adjusted to having you against me, to knowing you were close and my brain apparently registers that something is fundamentally wrong now, so I've been having trouble."

"When did you last sleep through the night?"

"Saturday."

"And before that?"

"…Tuesday."

"Fuck, Gil." Matthew rubbed a hand over his face. "We're quite a pair, aren't we?"

"Yes, we are."

There was a moment of silence between them then Matthew asked, "Is there anything I can do to help you right now? You need your sleep, sweetheart."

"I know. Honestly, I think in the short term I'm just going to have to wait to basically pass out until we figure something out. There's nothing logical about how I'm reacting. I just…need to be with you to sleep well, I think. I don't think we'll ever be separated long enough to truly allow me to adjust, so I'm pretty sure I'm screwed."

Matthew felt awful. Sure, it wasn't his fault but still. Because any option that would let Gilbert adjust permanently to sleeping without him? Call him selfish, but after the conference, the thought was utterly out of the question. He wouldn't even bring it up. "We'll figure this out. Whether it be getting you a giant stuffed animal to cuddle with or us video chatting until you fall asleep, we _will_ figure this out, Gilbert."

Gilbert's face was serious as he said into the camera, "I know, Matthew. I know."

* * *

Gilbert had been able to get a few hours of sleep when he finally ended the call with Matthew, but the problem was far from solved. His insomnia had him up the following night, blearily searching for apartments in the wee hours of Wednesday morning in the living room. _When the_ fuck _did rent get so expensive?_

"Gilbert?" He looked up and blinked at his younger brother. He was distantly relieved that he had thrown on underwear considering the time of night. "Why are you awake? We have to work in the morning."

"I'm aware, West." Gilbert said, exhaustion evident in his voice. "Can't sleep."

Ludwig frowned. "Have you considered getting off the computer? The blue light can keep you awake."

"Thanks, but that is so not the issue."

"Then what is?" Ludwig said, crossing his arms as he stared down at Gilbert.

Gilbert had the impulse to glare, but no energy to really put into it. "How well do you sleep without Feli here?' When Ludwig didn't immediately answer, Gilbert focused back on the screen in front of him. "I won't have time to look for my own place tomorrow at work, so I might as well do it now."

The tension flowed out of Ludwig and he sat in the chair opposite of Gilbert. "You are really going to move out."

Gilbert stopped his scrolling and cleared his throat. "Yeah."

"Is it because of Matthew?"

"Partially. But, now that I really consider it, it's mostly for me. It's time, don't you think?" He had raised Ludwig. Healed him when he was hurt and protected him when he was weak. Ludwig had returned the favor in so many ways and wasn't a kid anymore, hadn't been for a long time. They were both ready to live apart.

Ludwig caught his eye and held his gaze for a long moment before nodding solemnly and said, "Yes, I suppose it is. East, there is something I must tell you. Something I have kept from you for far too long."

Gilbert closed his laptop and sat up from the sprawl he had settled into for long-term internet surfing. "About what?"

"Ivan."

* * *

**Gilbert: I know.**

**Gilbert: About what West and Alistair did.**

Matthew stared at the messages that had come through late the night before when he had been too deeply asleep to hear the notifications. He had to get ready for work but…

**Matthew: Can you talk? I know you're at work…**

**Matthew: Sorry, I just woke up and saw these.**

**Gilbert: I can msg.**

**Gilbert: I'm ok, not upset.**

Yeah, Matthew called bullshit on that one. He went to type out his reply when the little dots showed up on screen, indicating that Gilbert was typing.

**Gilbert: I know why they did it.**

**Gilbert: Thanks for asking them to share tho. Am not a fan of the risks they took.**

**Matthew: They love you.**

**Gilbert: Yeah**

**Matthew: If you want to talk about it, I'm here.**

**Matthew: I love you.**

**Gilbert: Yeah**

Matthew looked anxiously at the screen for 30 seconds as the dots periodically wiggled and disappeared as Gilbert apparently struggled to say something.

**Gilbert: ily2 <3**

Matthew guessed that was good enough for now. He looked at the clock and leapt out of bed. _Fuck, I'm going to be late._

* * *

Thursday afternoon, Gilbert was plowing through his to-do pile at work when his phone beeped at him. Repeatedly.

**Birdie: Okay so**

**Birdie: I was bored**

**Birdie: and missing you**

**Birdie: and horny**

**Birdie: and I owe you for that tickle attack last month**

**Birdie: hope this makes you smile!**

**Birdie: don't watch this at work**

**Birdie: I'm serious Gil I don't want you to get in trouble**

**File Received.**

Gilbert's brain stopped. Oh, my God. Matthew had just…And he was at work! He couldn't watch the…maybe he—no! Stop that train of thought! Fuck.

**Awesome Me: Matthew**

**Awesome Me: You KNOW I'm at work**

**Awesome Me: Why must you do this? I thought you loved me?**

**Awesome Me: I can't figure out austerity with an erection!**

**Birdie: Sure you can**

**Birdie: lol**

**Awesome Me: TEASE**

**Birdie: you love it**

**Awesome Me: yeah**

"Gilbert." He looked up from his phone see Ludwig staring at him steadily.

"Yes, West?" He sat up straight and put his phone down, making it look like he had been totally on task this entire time and absolutely not flirting with his kinky partner. _Nothing to see here folks!_

Ludwig sighed and shook his head before saying lowly, "Would you mind turning down the evil grin? I believe you are scaring the humans."

Gilbert hadn't even realized he had been smiling. He made the effort to make his mouth a neutral line and he thinks he failed. "My bad." When Ludwig walked away, presumably to his own desk down the hall or a meeting, Gilbert looked at his phone again.

**Birdie: enjoy! ;)**

Oh, he would. Later.

* * *

**Ludwig: Matthew, as pleased as I am that Gilbert was happy and smiling, I ask that you please desist from distracting him while at work.**

**Ludwig: His grinning disturbs our human coworkers.**

Matthew's face heated. _Whoops._

Actually, he was too gratified that Gilbert was smiling to really give a fuck. It wasn't like his boyfriend was doing anything besides smiling so…

**Matthew: Hello, Ludwig. I'm sorry your coworkers are concerned but it's kinda my job to make him happy so…**

**Matthew: sorry not sorry?**

**Matthew: I won't send anything *too* distracting next time.**

**Ludwig: …I suppose that is the best I am going to get. Thank you.**

Matthew chuckled to himself at the idea of Ludwig sigh and dealing with mildly distressed humans before turning back to his work.

* * *

Friday afternoon had him thinking maybe he shouldn't have gotten on Ludwig's bad side. If that was the case…anyway.

"Gilbird, please. It's only for a couple of hours then you can chirp at Gilbert in person. I promise, the cage won't kill you. Maple, for the love of God, get off of me. You can't come. Don't even think about it, Kuma. I see you dragging that bag. No. Put it back!"

"Who are you?"

"You know _exactly_ who I am, goddammit!"

"Where are you going?"

"Away!"

"Can I come?"

Matthew sighed as he looked at the polar bear's cute little eyes and said, "Let me ask."

Kumajiro roared and Matthew pointed his finger at him. "No! You remember what happened last time."

The large bear huffed and Gilbird flew over to his head. The two animals tweeted and grumbled at him in turns and Matthew threw his hands up. "This is _not_ a negotiation! Gilbird is going back to Gilbert. Maple can only come because she's small and _if_ all three people I will be staying with agree. Kuma, you don't like planes and they don't like you! I'm happy everyone became friends but come on! I have a flight to catch!"

* * *

Gilbert received a message from Matthew and grinned. He looked at his brother from across the living room and said, "Hey, West? Can Mattie bring his pet?"

Ludwig looked up from his book and shrugged. "Sure, I do not see the harm in it as he will be gone from it more frequently now. What type of animal? Is it a dog?"

Ludwig's eyes had lit up in obvious delight at the thought and Gilbert said, "Sorry, no. It's a polar bear."

"A _what_?"

"Don't worry, it would be the small one. She's really cute. The larger one apparently doesn't travel well, which I believe."

"He has _more than one?_ "

"Is that a no, then?"

"A _bear_ , Gilbert?!"

"God, West, calm down. I'll just tell him no." Gilbert let Matthew know as a thrill went through him. _Only a few more hours._

* * *

Gilbert was rarely patient when it came to getting what he wanted, so he abused his authority as a Nation in his home country and decided to wait for Matthew in the terminal itself. He could have just waited in customs (or, you know, _where everyone else was_ ) but why do anything by halves?

It was late morning and the airport was filled with people trying to either desperately make their flight or waiting for time to pass. Gilbert took in the feeling of being surrounded by so many of his people and sighed. Considering the circumstances, he was pleased to have that little reminder that he was still immortal. Or, rather, as immortal as any Nation could be.

**Birdie: Just landed. Damn but I'm ready for this flight to be over.**

Excitement raced through him, anticipation making him antsy.

**Awesome Me: Finally! I'll see you when you get off**

**Awesome Me: ;D**

**Birdie: I'm rolling my eyes right now**

**Birdie: I want you to know that**

**Birdie: And I still have to go through customs ugh**

**Birdie: and get my bags**

**Birdie: so unfortunately it will still take a little while to see you :/**

Gilbert hadn't _meant_ for his message to be…okay, that's a lie. He usually means what he says in the dirtiest connotation possible. But in this case, it wasn't his fault Matthew had assumed that he was where everyone else was waiting. It would just be a surprise when Matthew entered the terminal and saw him waiting!

He restrained himself from watching the plane dock at the gate with his nose pressed up against the window like a five-year-old. Barely. But he waited like an adult (mostly), hands in his pockets and rocking back on his heels. People started exiting the gate, some bright eyed and striding purposefully, others with blank, tired eyes as they slowly but steadily moved forward.

Matthew appeared to be between these two groups. He had on a sweatshirt and jeans, hair swept up into a messy bun. His eyes were tired, unfocused, but he was still striding purposefully. Matthew was too preoccupied with looking at the directional signs, familiar silver chain at the base of his neck flashing with each turn of his head, to see Gilbert standing there at first. Luckily, Gilbird, from the small cage in Matthew's hand, noticed and immediately started putting up a fuss. Matthew looked down at the cage confused and Gilbert approached him.

Matthew said to the cage, head down, "Gilbird, you need to calm down. We're almost out of here, I promise."

"Call me crazy," Gilbert started and Matthew's eyes flew to him ( _God but he's beautiful how the fuck did this happen to me?_ ), widening comically. "But I don't think the problem is-mmph."

Matthew had grabbed a hold of his sweater and pulled him into an abrupt kiss, unapologetically cutting him off. Gilbert didn't mind, hands coming up automatically to cup Matthew's cheek and waist. The kiss was short and hard, Matthew pulling back just as quickly as he pulled him in, only going far enough to smile at him.

Gilbert couldn't help but smile back. "Hello, _Liebling_."

"Hello, sweetheart."

And, just like that, he was where he belonged. Gilbert was home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will I be writing the escapades of Lovino and Matthew, as well as a continuation of the happy couple's reunion? Sure thing.


	35. Epilogue: December 25, 2014

Matthew was trembling, though the tuxedo he was wearing hid it well. Gilbert would have noticed had he not been across the room, showing how much he loved his brother by outright harassing him. Matthew would have shaken his head at the familiar sight, but he was too distracted by his boyfriend laughing. A tension that always built within him as he spent long periods from Ludwig had dissipated and this was the most comfortable Matthew had seen him in weeks. It was enough to make him feel guilty in off moments that he pulled him half a world away from his family, though Gilbert himself was quick to nip that in the bud whenever he noticed. He insisted that he was happier than he had ever envisioned himself being and had proved it often, but that didn't stop Matthew from questioning his utterly self-serving actions. Still, he never regretted what he did, what he was doing, what he was about to do.

Unless, of course, he finally pushed Gilbert too far and drove him away. It didn't _seem_ likely that that would happen, that Matthew would finally cross a yet undiscovered line that separated reasonably intimate and too much with Gilbert. He frankly hoped that he would never find that line, that his needs and desires never truly exceeded what Gilbert was willing if not eager to give, but he wasn't naive enough to believe there wasn't a line. Time would tell, he supposed. It might even tell in a few minutes.

Matthew tore his gaze from Gilbert to find the free-flowing bar that always accompanied Alfred's holiday party. He strode purposefully in that direction, so focused on his destination that he was startled to run into someone. Matthew barely looked at the person, saying, "Oh, please excuse-"

"Bro. Bro, bro, bro." A worryingly strong grip held his right arm steady and forced him to meet painfully familiar amused eyes. Alfred was shaking his head, smirking at him. He was wearing a pale blue shirt that had been accompanied with jacket and tie at the beginning of the night but had at some point been abandoned and loosened.

"What, Alfred?" Matthew said, nerves turning his voice sharper than intended. Matthew winced. "Shit, sorry. What is it?"

Alfred gripped both of his shoulders and forcibly turned him around. "You're going the wrong way, my man. You told me to keep you from drinking and that's what I'm going to do."

"I just wanted a glass of water…" Matthew said weakly, lying through his teeth.

"You don't even sound like you believe that. What's the problem here? You know what he'll say." Alfred started pushing him through the crowd towards Gilbert and Matthew resisted.

"What are you doing?! You can't push me over there—"

"Watch me, bro." To Matthew's horror, he kept being moved. Alfred continued, in a surprisingly quiet tone, "Seriously, you should just do it. You got his whole family to like you, which I swear is some kind of black magic. Trust me, I would know. You would not believe the shit Arthur likes to try in—"

"Alfred!"

"Anyway, _Ludwig_ likes you! _Lovino_ likes you! What is that? Gilbert loves you! He fucking _lives_ with you. He left _Germany_ for you, Mattie! He agreed to live with that snow beast you call a pet and deal with your hellish winters! If that's not devotion, I don't know what is!"

Softly, Matthew replied, "But that doesn't mean he'll say—"

"Yes, it really does. Look," Alfred stopped pushing and walked around to face him. With his face more serious than Matthew had seen in a long time, he said, "I won't walk you over there completely because, hey, I love embarrassing you but this something important. I will walk _with you,_ though, as far as you need. You can relax, Mattie, because I know he'll say yes."

"How are you sure when I'm not?"

"Because I see how he looks at you, how he treats you. Also, I've seen that medal that you've barely taken off since he gave it to you two years ago, which I find a little nauseating but whatever. Not the point right now. I did some research, so I know that that medal is. He asked you for your hand a long time ago and you've been saying yes every time you put that necklace on."

* * *

Gilbert's eyes scanned the room for Matthew almost as a reflex as he was harass— _speaking with_ his brother. He frowned minutely in spotting him with Alfred, face hidden but posture anxious. He quickly focused on Ludwig again, realizing that he had yet to respond to his teasing over Feliciano staying in Italy for a time at his boss' insistence. Ludwig was staring at him with what Gilbert recognized as his _brother, why must you embarrass yourself like this_ look. "What?"

"Gilbert, you are painfully obvious at times. You have been attempting to tease me all night—"

"I think I was doing an excellent job at it, thanks."

"—and act like we have not seen each other in years when it has only been two months _with_ near daily communication—"

"But, West—"

"—but you are clearly discomforted by your distance from Matthew. I would not be offended if you spent time with your boyfriend, Gilbert."

Gilbert sighed. "It's not that. Okay, no, it is that, a little. I'm still not used to being so far away from you, you know that." As easy as it was to move in with Matthew when he saw the toll the distance was taking on both of them earlier this year, he hated being so far from Ludwig. His brother could clearly take care of himself but it still felt…not quite right, being too far away to protect him if needed. "But I think something's bothering him. Like, seriously wrong."

Ludwig frowned at him, hinting at his sudden concern. "Has he been ill?"

"No, I don't think so. He's been jumpy for a couple of weeks and sometimes looks at me like I'm going to disappear. He was quiet on the way over…okay, more like silent. Then, almost the second we got here, he's avoided me. I'm just a little worried and—" Gilbert noticed a certain pinching around Ludwig's eyes and mouth that indicated he was fighting laughter. Instantly, Gilbert's temper rose. "What the fuck is so funny about this?"

Ludwig's lips twitched, which was the equivalence to snorting in mirth for other people. "You will see. But, I can almost assure you, East, nothing is wrong."

Gilbert narrowed his eyes. "What do you know?"

Ludwig's gaze shifted to the left and he said, "Maybe you should ask Matthew what is bothering him." Smiling in greeting, he said, in English, "Good evening, Matthew. Happy Christmas."

Gilbert turned to see Matthew attempt to smile in return, though it was weak and his eyes kept nervously flicking to Gilbert. "Merry Christmas, Ludwig. I trust you are enjoying the party?"

"As much as I can, with near constant harassment from this one." Gilbert didn't hiss at him, but it was a near thing. "If you would take him off my hands? There are some people I would like to speak to while here."

"Literally, _right here_ , West." Gilbert promised himself there and then he would be pouring beer over Ludwig's head at some point in the near future. It wouldn't have to be that day or the next, but it was coming _soon._

Matthew just licked his lips and nodded before focusing on Gilbert completely. "Hey, Gil, um. I actually wanted to speak with you? About something? In private, I mean. If you wouldn't mind?"

Ludwig left them quickly, but Gilbert barely noticed. All the alarm bells were going off in his head at once at Matthew's tone. He stepped closer to him and lowered his voice. "Of course, _Liebling_. Are you all right?" He ran a hand down Matthew's arm and was startled to find him almost vibrating with tension. He took his hand and squeezed it. "You're shaking."

"I-I know, but I'm okay." Matthew lowered his eyes and Gilbert didn't believe him.

"Matthew—"

"Please, angel. Let's just go somewhere?"

"Yeah, anything you need. You want to go to our room?" The holiday party was hosted in an upscale hotel's ballroom and each nation or couple had their own room here for the duration of their stay. While it was still relatively early in the night, Gilbert doubted they would be missed if they weren't gone long. Even if they were, he didn't particularly care, but he knew Matthew might. He had worked hard for several months to get his brother to make the party more multicultural than the usual "X-MAS" theme. For him to want to leave it so soon, something major had to be going on.

"Yes, that would be fine."

They quietly made their way to their room. It wasn't quite a suite, but it was surprisingly spacious, even with the king sized bed dressed in blue and cream. The room felt soft in a way that made Gilbert nervous that he might break something, though Matthew seemed unbothered as he released Gilbert's hand as soon as the door was closed and strode over to the window overlooking the city, the trees of Central Park softly illuminated before them. He seemed to be taking deep breaths and Gilbert resisted the urge to embrace him, in case he was feeling claustrophobic. They had each worked on dealing with their issues and had learned each other enough to usually know when distance was needed. Now, Gilbert wasn't sure.

Gilbert gave Matthew time and tried to find something to focus on. Their shared luggage was still packed, clothes mingling in the small suitcase as they did in the drawers of their home. He could unpack it…but no. He turned on the bedside lamp and began to loosen his tie instead. He removed his jacket and laid it on the bed before giving up and moving to the window. He took Matthew's now steady hand and raised it to his lips in a soft kiss before saying, "Talk to me."

Matthew seemed to steel his spine before turning to Gilbert and looking him in the eye, the intensity of his gaze all the greater for Matthew's decision to wear contacts for the party. Or then again, maybe for this, whatever _this_ was. His voice was clear and only shook a little as he began speaking.

"Gil, do you remember when I first called you angel?"

Gilbert frowned at him. "Of course I do. It was after our first date." A ghost of a smirk crossed his lips. "You said it right after I had kissed you senseless."

Matthew's eyes smiled at him before slowly raising his hand to trace his lips. "Yes. Do you know why I call you that?"

 _No, I had assumed it was because you gave it to me when I made all rational thought leave your head and it just sort of stuck. I'm no angel, that's for sure,_ Gilbert thought. He said, "No, but I had wondered."

"It's because every moment I'm with you I feel like I'm flying. Since we've met, my heart nearly pounds out of my chest every time you look at me and I lose my grounding every time you touch me. I had never dreamed that I would feel like this, that I would find someone whose heart and mind could make me not only want to survive every day, but to live.

"You know me, Gilbert; my hang-ups and insecurities, my desires and dreams. And I know you. I know your regrets and greatest joys, your fears, hopes, and your love. You have shared with me your courage and strength, while trusting me with your scars and vulnerabilities. I thank you, with all that I am, for letting me know you, for it has been my greatest pleasure."

Matthew paused to take a deep breath and Gilbert felt nearly faint with how hard his heart was pounding. What was this? Was Matthew saying goodbye? _No_ , it couldn't be. Then was he…?

"I have asked much of you, in the two years that we have been together. Before, I had learned to fear hoping for good things, to not ask for what I want. You have helped me unlearn that habit. What I want is to wake up beside you every day. I want the privilege of sharing my life with you, to be a constant at your side as the world changes around us. So, I ask you, Gilbert, my angel…"

Matthew sank to one knee, pulled a ring from his breast pocket and presented it to Gilbert. It gleamed in the low light of the room, a simple but elegant band of titanium that made his heart stutter in his chest.

"Would you do me the honor of becoming my husband?"

Gilbert blinked down at Matthew's wide, hopeful if nervous eyes and almost couldn't believe this was his life. He breathed, "Are you serious?"

Matthew exhaled sharply. "Yes, Gil. I am."

"Yes. My God, yes. Now, come here."

Mathew smiled, face alight with joy, and went.

* * *

"Hey, new bro!"

Ludwig shifted his now cold gaze to Alfred, hoping to discourage conversation but unwilling to say so out loud since Alfred _was_ hosting the party, after all. "Are you speaking to _me_?"

"Yeah, dude! Our brothers are getting married and that makes _us_ brothers! We're going to be in-laws!"

Ludwig was ashamed, but for a split second, he questioned giving his blessing to Matthew. He had not thought this far. Okay, no. He had, but then he had immediately blocked it out. A string of curse words went through his head, but all he said was, "Indeed."

"We should hang out at some point! But, listen, I haven't seen Mattie in a while and he was really nervous about tonight. Like, almost sick from how worried he was. I was thinking of checking on him but—"

Sirens went off in Ludwig's head. "No! I mean…that would not be wise. You have _met_ Gilbert, yes? Believe me when I say to let them be. If you are truly concerned, then a text message will suffice." When Alfred still looked unsure, Ludwig mentally sighed before adding. "Stockholm."

It only took an instant for Alfred to blanch and say, "Point taken."

 _You are welcome, Gilbert,_ Ludwig thought before escaping the conversation to find Kiku. He didn't have to hope his brother was finally, _finally_ happy; he knew he was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sniffles* Fuckin' nerds.   
> This is the end of the first full story I've ever written! Hope you enjoyed and thanks for sticking around!

**Author's Note:**

> This work was started in February 2013 and completed in December 2016. Style will change, but I will try to update this version every couple of days, depending on my schedule.


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